The first task was a secret, and Harry Potter as champion was honour bound not to seek out any information about it. As this was part of a binding magical contract, Harry chose not to risk the effects of seeking out information himself. Of course, he was Hufflepuff. Hufflepuffs had a rather loose definition of ownership where tasks, duties and responsibilities go. While not quite anarchist collectivists, the idea that a Hufflepuff should face a dangerous and difficult task alone while other perfectly capable Hufflepuffs were doing nothing struck all of them as wrong.

Worse, other houses who had contact with Hufflepuff found that attitude was like some sort of insidious virus that could affect even the most otherwise rational of Houses.

There were wards preventing anyone who was a registered student of any of the three schools from passing the ward line at the forest edge on the side of the castle where the beasts for the first task were located. A further charm woven into the air itself, tied to the ley line that ran beneath the forest, to obscure any attempt at magical scrying or apparition into the warded area of the forest. There was an owl ward to make sure you could not simply enchant a spying object and have an owl deliver it, like a muggle spy plane. Dumbledore had thought of everything. Of course, Dumbledore was emotionally stunted and rather over impressed with his own brilliance, so the secrecy of the first task was violated more thoroughly than the former Minister Fudge's ethics.

Hermione looked at Noodle with her utterly reasonable expression. This of course Noodle always gave in to, as she was utterly reasonable in a race of mammals that were so often in need of reptile supervision that the one rational being among them must always be listened to.

"$ Speaker has not asked me to. $" Noodle objected.

"$ Well he won't, will he? His a boy, and a goblin. Both of whom have these silly concepts about honour and fair play. He is willing to get himself killed rather than compromise his principles. $" Hermione hissed reasonably.

"$ Speaker is stupid. Fair play is for prey. Secrets exist to be stolen. The one who stinks like two humans and the Liar of the Light both wish Speaker harm. They are not to be trusted! $"

"$ It is far, it is cold. I will encounter many prey and not have time to digest them. $" Noodle complained.

"$ It is unfair, and Speaker would never ask it of you. He would never send you alone and without protection into the Forbidden Forest. $" Hermione hissed reasonably.

"$ Speaker dares to speak as if the mighty Noodle requires protection? It was not Noodle that fought the Queen of Serpents and made her pregnant. Noodle was wise and mighty and avoided her for months, only risking the Chamber of Secrets when his Mouse Giver was in danger. Then Noodle was wise enough to bite her eyes. It is possible to fight legendary monsters without making babies. $"

Hermione stroked Noodle's head and tickled beneath his chin.

"$ This is why I am sending you alone into the Forbidden Forest to hunt secrets. What is the task, what tricks do they conceal, who else knows. All the things Speaker needs and is too boy and goblin to think to ask. $"

Noodle turned to look at her seriously. She looked him right in the eyes and dropped her occulmency shields to expose all of her thoughts, needs, and speculation on the issue. Noodle looked into every corner of her mind and hissed in irritation.

"$ Secret Agent Noodle, do you accept your mission? $" Hermione asked.

"$ Mouse Giver has chosen to unleash the Mighty Noodle upon the Forbidden Forest. I will bring you every secret $"

Hermione nodded at her Noodle. "$ I will give you not one, but two specially potioned mice, all live and touched with a warming charm to heat you up inside when you get back. One for the mission, and the second one because I am going to need you to make sure any of the other champions who send lesser scouts also receive the information. $"

Noodle hissed. "$ We do not share prey! $" Hermione stroked Noodle's flanks and ego both.

"$I know, I know, but Speaker has sworn that none of the other champions are allowed to die. It is war between Speaker, the Liar of Light, and the Human who smells like two humans. $"

Hermione frowned again. She had Fred and George check their map. The Liar of Light was Dumbledore, and the map showed Human Who Smells Like Two Humans showed as Barty Crouch, and he was supposed to be Barty Crouch senior, and with Barty Crouch Jr having died in Azkaban he should definitely be the only Barty Crouch. Still, since the whole Not A Rat fiasco, Noodles definition of people had always been something Hermione paid attention to.

Noodle accepted that war, and a second mouse, were indeed reasons to violate the most sacred serpent maxim of I killed it, get your own, where it came to intelligence hunted down by Secret Agent Noodle. Mouse Giver was wise as always. Who else but she commanded the mighty Secret Agent Noodle? The rest really were helpless mammals.

It was a long crawl, and cold. He thanked Mouse Giver again for the spatial expansion charms she had placed in his venom sacs. Any normal rock viper would have run dry twenty meters into the forest. It bothered Noodle that the cow sized Acromantula was just going to lie there, killed and uneaten without a helpful mammal with a knife and spatial expansion bag to carry it home to make kebabs, but after the first dozen kills the forest spread word that something far deadlier stalked the forest this night.

It was still cold.

And wet.

The things I do for that ungrateful Speaker. Honestly, he doesn't deserve me or Mouse Giver. This is why she never gives Speaker any mice. He needs to work a lot harder if he is ever going to earn a mouse of his own.

Noodle slipped through the trees. Dragons. There was a wolf who was not a wolf trying to be still, but he flinched whenever the dragons roared and shot fire. He was one of the other champions. Still, he was at the tree line. What could even a decently nosed mammal learn from there?

Noodle slithered around, the trees were closer from the other side. He saw the Half Giant oaf that cared for the magical creatures for the Liar of Light sneaking in with the Half Giant Head Mistress of the Shining Maiden. The oaf was telling the Half Giant Head Mistress of the Shining Maiden everything about the particular Dragons that were here.

Why? Was he not bound by oath, was he not bound by loyalty, was he not supposed to be Hogwarts staff and supporting the Hogwarts champion?

The Half Giant head Mistress picked up Hagrid and snogged him so hard he kicked his feet helplessly until he went limp. Dropping him back to his feet, the oaf continued to babble out all the information he knew, which was rather more than Noodle had suspected the oaf could contain. Noodle looked on at the giant mating rituals, and interrogation and nodded his respect for the Half Giant Headmistress of the Shining Maiden. He determined her name now. Mighty Seductress. He wondered if he should ask the Water Witch how to build up Mouse Giver's upper body strength. Clearly the lift in the air and snog helpless method was effective at managing mammal males. Perhaps she could use it on Speaker and Secret Agent Noodle could stay in warm castles not crawl through soaking wet and freezing nighttime forests?

Still, the Hogwarts oaf was an oaf, and missed things. Noodle crept forward.

Welsh Green. Chinese Firebolt. Swedish Short Snout. Hungarian Ridge Back all as advertised. Very dangerous of course, but well fed and thus not likely to be overly aggressive. Deterrence would be enough. Wise reptiles did not risk injury or spend energy uselessly after prey that were difficult or costly.

Noodle slithered on, his Notice Me Not charm from Mouse Giver working where his more potent Invisibility would not. Dragons could see the invisible, and through most illusions. Their magic was wild, potent, and very strong. They killed a lot of wizards who thought care of magical creatures was a joke course. Wizard meant wise one, but outside Speaker and his friends, most of them were not.

What was that inside the crates that the Dragons were not letting the handlers near. What was it. He tasted the air. Dragon scent, plant scents, and shell scents.

Shell scents. Noodle looked. Eggs. Each of the dragons was a nesting mother with living eggs. Sweet slithering Slytherin they were NESTING MOTHERS. The mammals are idiots. Nesting mothers would kill anyone that approached their eggs, risk any injury and keep fighting well past their death. No compulsion would hold them, no charm still them, they would draw upon all the wild magic of their blood and burn out their own magical core without hesitation to free themselves to defend their eggs.

Mammals were stupid. Speaker must be told. Mouse Giver is wise. Clearly she remains too good for Speaker. Had she not sent Secret Agent Noodle all the champion mammals would die.

Noodle caught the wolf who is not a wolf slinking back to the castle and ambushed him. The wolf opened its jaws as if the dog had any chance against a reptile of clearly superior mind and body. He pinned the Wolf who is Not a Wolf with his Legimency and drove into his mind like the serpent he was. Into his mind he drove the conversation of the Hogwarts oaf, all the things the Wolf might not have overheard. Then he drove into his mind the images of nest, nest, nest and nest. Showed again the irrational protectiveness of the nesting mothers until the smelly furred champion nodded his understanding. Noodle then wrapped himself around the fluffy thing, he was no Dog Father, but he could carry a tired and clearly superior Secret Agent Noodle back to the warm and dry stone of the castle.

If anyone in Hogwarts thought a lean mountain wolf carrying a large rune marked Rock Viper to the door of the Hufflepuff common room was odd, they had the good survival sense not to point it out.

-Hogsmeade Village earlier that day.

Fred and George had dragged Milicent Bulstrode along to Hogsmeade to meet their brother Charlie who was back in town from the Dragon preserve in Romania. It was adorable watching the ginger terrors blush about wanting her to meet the cool bits of their family, being Charlie and Bill, but she knew she felt the same urge to interrogate brother Charlie, the Dragon Handler who just so happened to be next to Hogwarts just before the first task.

Twenty minutes in, the bombshell that they were all nesting mothers and that the contract held three pages of terms and conditions for the actual eggs being present for the challenge made Milicent go cold in a way her ice rune couldn't ward off. Nesting mothers? The minimum force to go after a single nesting mothers was a full squad of five trained elite witches or wizards specializing in Dragons. One student alone? Suicide.

-Tea Party with Luna

She had been locked out of the common room again, this time from the shower. Her clothes had been stolen, which was annoying, but she had her wand tucked behind her ear, so that was fine. Draco had wanted to go curse her room mates, but that wouldn't make them like Luna any more than they did now, and Luna could not help how she disturbed them. She made tea and cakes, and wove flower crowns for the various fair creatures that came to take tea with her. Soon she was laughing, even if the Silver Lady of Ravenclaw wept at how far her House had fallen, Luna was determined to be happy, no matter what her housemates wanted.

They wove new clothes for her, and fine shoes, even though she never asked them, but the had taken her gifts, and would give some in return. Draco just sighed and tried to manage his nerves. When the Banshee finished her minced meat turnover and gave voice to an unearthly wail, Draco's nerves finally shattered. Luna was busy comforting the Banshee who wept after she wailed.

"It's the babies you see. She must cry out for those who will die, and indeed a human will die tomorrow, and a dragon, but what she cries for is always and only for the babies." The cow tailed Huldra or hollow woman sighed to Draco sadly.

"Babies?" Draco chocked, surprised at the thought.

The Huldra nodded. "Mavis, that is the Banshee. always cries when she has to scream the death of babies. It is the part of her gift that makes it a curse. When one of you lot dies, it's usually a net positive, isn't it?" The Huldra said coldly of the death of humans.

Draco unconsciously nodded. His Hufflepuff friends would mostly object, but honestly most humans would be good dragon food as far as Draco was concerned. Still. That meant the first challenge was dragons, with babies or eggs. A person, a dragon, and some number of babies would die tomorrow. Merlin's balls, Harry had to know.

Draco tried to stead his tea cup. Calming draughts or no, his nerves couldn't take many more of these high stake tea parties. Luna comforted the crying banshee, because clearly a girl locked naked out of her common room by her dorm mates should of course be comforting fairy death omen creatures at a tea party. It would be Un-Slytherin to report the bullying to Flitwick. He shouldn't care about another Houses internal affairs. It would be impossible for him to just arrange an accident or two. Luna would see, and it would make her sad. It was so frustrating to have a problem he could not bribe, blackmail, threaten, or even murder his way out of . Ravenclaws were just wrong.

Luna looked at him in her newly woven fairy gown and her fine leprechaun shoes and smiled. She had got the Banshee to stop crying. Draco forced a smile and raised his tea cup. He guessed he would have to make sure his Hufflepuff idiot was not the human that died tomorrow. Draco winced. And warn them about the babies. Hufflepuffs got all irrational about dead babies, even monster ones.

Draco ate a fourth strawberry tart. He was going to gain five pounds and lose all of his hair. He just didn't know how many of these high stake tea parties he had left in him.

-Breakfast at the Hufflepuff table

Cedric found himself pulled out of his seat by the Weasley twins.

"You are being," Said Fred

"Kidnapped. It is useless," Continued George

"To resist us." Finished Fred

Cedric looked from the mad Weasley twin to the mostly rational Slytherin beater who smirked and shoved Hufflepuff's downstream on the bench so Cedric could be dropped beside Harry.

"Wait here." Said Milicent. "We have another kidnapping before you can accidentally overhear something." She continued as if this was the most rational thing in the world.

Cedric Diggory looked at Harry who shrugged as if to say no one told him anything either. He looked to Hermione who frowned in the way that says you will be told what you need to hear when bushier and wiser heads decide to tell you. He turned to look at Neville who just grinned back. You can't fight it, so you may as well snag the waffles while they are hot.

With alarm, Cedric realized there were not waffles enough for everyone and put his seeker reflexes to work. Love is war but breakfast is not controlled by any international convention on lawful use of force. It was every badger for itself.

The Great Hall exploded as Milicent came back to the table with Fleur Delacour thrown over one shoulder, and two ginger terrors fending off Beauxbaton defenders. When Fleur was deposited between Cedric and Harry, they looked to see a sheepish Victor Krum walking towards their table behind a smug looking Noodle. How a Rock Viper could slither in a superior fashion was unclear, but everyone in the hall could see the snake was indeed slithering smugly as he came to the table trailing the Durmstrang champion.

"$ I have taught Not a Wolf to heel! $ Announced Noodle proudly, before slithering over Hermione's arms to rest his head comfortably beside her cheek.

Hermione cleared her throat, then gestured for Draco and Luna to slide in on her side of the table, facing the champions.

"Purely by chance, some information about the secret first task came to my attention. I put together a booklet for each of you."

Krum looked in surprise. "This is sixty pages!" He protested.

Cedric patted him on the shoulder. "With footnotes, graphs, statistics, and historical references. That is just Hermione. Accept it and move on."

Fleur Delacour objected. "It is illegal for a champion or an instructor to share information about the tasks. They are secret."

Hermione shrugged. "It's illegal to seduce Hagrid by bench pressing him, then snogging him stupid in the Forbidden Forrest, but here we are. However seductive your Headmistress was, Hagrid misses things, and some of those things will get you killed. Turn to page six."

Fleur did and blanched. "Nesting mothers? Are the insane?"

Luna had tears in her eyes. "The Banshee cried last night, then wept. A human will die, and a dragon, and some babies."

The four champions froze. A human will die.

Breakfast turned to lead in their stomachs.

Harry reached into the pouch at his side and drew out three other pouches. He handed one to each champion.

"This is a thousand galleons. It is a gift from the Goblin Nation to the champions of the three schools. All we ask is that you take no gold from the Cauldron of Dagda, and you offer it no blood. In return I make you this oath." Harry said softly.

"I swear upon my life and magic, I will take no gold from the Cauldron of Dagda or those who use it in this challenge. I will offer the blood of no champion. I will use my wit, my will, my wand, and my weapons to see that every champion lives at the end of the tournament. If any fall, it will be because they were beyond my strength or cunning to reach. So mote it be."

Harry's wand slashed down, and the wash of magic flared around them. There could be only one champion, and a thousand galleons was a fortune, yet here he was just handing it to them, and binding himself from striking out at them, worse, binding himself to strike to protect them.

Krum spoke first. "What are you asking?"

Harry smiled. "Don't die. Don't kill each other for some fairy trick or some worthless politician's ego."

Fleur frowned. "They will kill you for this. You embarrass people who can make entire families disappear, and you do it in front of the whole world."

Harry laughed, and Fleur shuddered. "They wrote my death scene in 1981 in my cradle. They need me to die, and they even have a plan about how to milk it for all the public relations points they can muster. It is just my choice that they don't get to kill anyone else. You understand?

Dumbledore, the Ministry, Voldemort, they are all playing a game that ends with at least me, and probably Voldemort dead at the end. You three are just lesser pieces, trapped between the white king and the black king while the game is played by cold old men to whom your lives, dreams and souls are just coins to spend to buy a few more years in power.

I don't want them to get them.

I want you to live.

That's it. That is all I ask." Harry said, and none of the champions could find a hint of deception in it.

When the Hufflepuffs got up and left the table for class, Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour, and Victor Krum were left alone, staring at three pouches sitting on the table. Their expressions were troubled.

-Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade, two days before the challenge

Griphook, Harry, Fleur, Victor, Cedric, Charlie Weasley, Hagrid, and Dragonmaster Viridish of Gringotts looked across their cards and the silver sickles in the middle, and then at each other. The game was Canasta, played in pairs with multiple decks of card and a silver sickle a card rode on who took each trick, plus of course the bets on how many each would get. It was a serious game in the goblin world, and not unknown in the wizarding one.

"So how would you steal an egg if you had to?" Offered Harry to Cedric.

"Strong Protego and the fire freezing charm I guess, then count on using my broomstick to sneak past it and grab an egg. If they are chained down, they can't get after me, and I only have to survive a second or two of their breath."

Griphook and Viridish laughed in goblin and shared a comment in gobbledegook.

Harry translated it for Cedric. "That means 'fried wizard smells like fool, tastes like pork' Its a common expression among goblins" Harry clarified.

Hagrid nodded. "Yeah, that's maybe a bit cold way to put it, but not wrong."

Charlie helped the other champions out. "Dragon fire is like phoenix fire. The fire freezing charm won't work on them, and Dumbledore could maybe cast a protego Ultima that could take the full power tail strike or claw attack of a dragon, but there isn't a parchments chance in dragonfire that you lot could."

Krum shrugged. "Avada Kedavera. It is legal on non humans."

Charlie and Hagrid immediately shouted their objections, but Viridish laughed again. "Good luck little wizard. Only the eyes, the inside of the mouth, the inside of the, how you say, place poop come out? Yes, other than that, none of your killing, cutting, or cursing magics can get through the scales. Charms that can encompass the whole body can if they are strong enough, and subtle enough, but the brute force ones can't make the Dragons core do anything to stop being a dragon even for a heartbeat.

The game lasted for hours, and the champions lost heavily. Griphook and Viridish got so drunk they actually tipped the waitress, largely with what they just won from the foolish human champions, and even the Weasley boy was staggering as he left, his pouch a lot fuller than when he arrived.

The four underage champions had only drunk butter beer, and bitter knowledge. They looked as if they would not sleep for a week, they had so much thinking to do. They did not have a week. They already knew someone died. They walked out of the Three Broomsticks no longer as certain it would not be them.

They would need new plans, but now at least they had the information they needed to make good ones.

-Day of the Challenge, the Champion's tent.

Victor Krum was in his Bulgarian National Team Quidditch gear, it being the only dragonhide armour he owned. Cedric Diggory was in a similar outfit that was so new he squeaked when he bent his limbs, but his father was quick to get him some when told what challenge his boy faced.

Fleur Delacour was in a blue form fitting track suit that differed from a muggle coverall only by the fineness of the Acromantula silk it was woven from and the amazing figure it covered. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. She looked more prepared for a jog or an engine tear down than a dragon fight.

Harry Potter's outfit drew the most attention. He wore a kilt of black basilisk leather, and boots of the same. Nothing else. There was a heavy goblin steel dagger sheathed on his left hip, and a wand holster on his right wrist.

His right arm and chest were covered with weeping red writing, as if someone had cut words into his flesh with a knife.

Fleur and Victor found themselves reading the words, as did Rita Skeeter, who gestured for her photographer to snap a photo. Delores Umbridge began shouting that she must have approval of all photographes before publishing, but Rita ignored that ruling, as she ignored most rules save to note what it was they tried to protect, so she could better target it.

"My my my, you are rather well developed for a boy of your years. All that beater training has paid off I see. What is this carved all over your arm, and wh hasn't it been healed? Daily Prophet readers want to know.

Delores Umbridge tried to get between Rita and Harry, but Ludo Bagman whose credit with the press relied on him giving them access wrestled her away. A fat former beater, his added girth only made him a better wrestler and he easily overpowered the pink ministry guard toad.

"I will respect and obey all orders and officials of the Ministry." Rita read, and her photographer got a close up shot of the still weaping wounds.

"Harry, why would you carve this into yourself, and why hasn't it healed?" Rita asked, actuall concerned.

Harry smiled grimly. "I didn't carve it into myself. I was given detention by Inquistor Umbridge. She had been given leave to use a dark artifact, a common blood quill used for signing magical contracts, but one with a dark enchantment that didn't just take my blood to write the lines, but carved each line into my flesh as I wrote them. She had been given specific licence to torture children into obedience by Minister of Magic Barty Crouch, and been given freedom to do so by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore who wanted those injuries healed so that the only one who knew he was allowing your children to be tortured would be the Ministry staff who did it, and the Headmaster who allowed it."

Harry smiled again. "I am a student, bound by my oaths to submit to the punishment of the school. I am forced to compete in this tournament or die by the will of the Ministry and a magical object of pre human origin, the Cauldron of Dagda that they chose to bind all of our souls to so they could put on a nice show for the wizarding public. I am not bound to shut up about what they do to us, or how they try to keep us from talking to the press about it."

Delores Umbridge had pulled her wand from her purse, but Ludo Bagman was too canny a politician to let a Ministry official shoot a child in front of the press, especially not the Boy Who Lived.

Rita could feel the headlines rolling off his tongue and smiled, with genuine warmth.

"Harry, your attire is enough to get you arrested, outside of certain clubs where honestly witches would be throwing galleons, hotel keys, and underwear at you. Can you explain why you aren't in robes or armour like your fellow competitors?" Rita asked.

Harry grinned. "Victor and Cedric are dressed to play a very dangerous game, but I am not here to play. Fleur is dressed to do hard and dirty work, so she and I at least understand what is in front of us. Me? I am wearing my kilt, boots, and weapons, for I am a goblin going to war, and need nothing else."

Rita beamed at him. This boy bled copy, scandal and controversy. She was beginning to think she might take a year off and turn this into a book before it was over.

Barty Crouch swept into the tent, his eyes bright, and his grin feral. He looked upon the champions and wet his lips, almost trembling in anticipation. He clapped his hands together, ignoring the worried look Dumbledore sent him at the odd behavior.

"Well champions, all geared up and ready to go? Ready to find out what your first challenge is? Well my friend Ludo." Barty stopped where he was still wrestling Umbridge for her wand. He flicked a stunner at his subordinate casually, and when the pink toad collapsed to the floor Barty continued as if nothing had happened.

"My friend Ludo here from Magical Sport has a bag full of tokens, each of which represents your specific challenge in the first task. Go ahed Ludo."

Ludo turned and with a leer, descended on Fleur Delacour, smoothing his hair back and trying to suck in his gut. "Ladies first, beauty before honestly everything else. Please my dear, pick your token."

Sighing and trying to ignore the preening Ludo Bagman, Fleur reached in and pulled out a writhing green dragon that tried to bite her fingers. She cast a charm filled gaze at it and the little green dragon began to coo at her and rub its face on her thumb.

"Welsh Green. I can do this." She said.

Barty turned to Dumbledore and complained. "They aren't' surprised. Why aren't they surprised. I WAS PROMISED SURPRISED DUMBLEDORE!" Minister Crouch complained angrily, causing Rita to gesture for her photographer to snap that photo too as the Minister and Dumbledore went nose to nose. Scandal, scandal, scandal. Dumbledore's information security was as terrible as ever.

Victor Krum pulled out a Chinese Fireball and sighed but nodded.

Cedric Diggory pulled out the Swedish Short Snout. He swore loudly. "Oh thank Merlin, its not the Horntail!" Then realizing what he said, he turned to a smirking Harry and finished with "Sorry Harry."

Harry stepped forward and lowered a single finger in. wincing, he pulled it out, and a miniature Hungarian Horntail was biting and clawing at his finger as if it could savage the entire wizard, even being no more than a two fingers long.

Harry held up his dragon and eyed it coldly, then nodded, closed his fist around it and crushed it. As he let its broken body fall from his fingers, he didn't notice the photographer's flash go off. His mind was already on the moves he needed.

Barty Crouch sat in his ministerial box with no one but his Imperius Cursed security detail. Technically he only Imperiused Proudfoot, but he got Stavendish, and so on and so on. Now they would all kill and eat babies in front of their mothers if he told them to. Come to think of it, that might be a way to get some use out of the mudbloods that had to be purged when the Dark Lord returned. He would have to keep that in mind. The net effect today is that he didn't have to pretend to be old stick up the ass daddy today. Barty could be himself while he watched, only sip his polyjuice when the challenge was over and he had to meet the public.

One champion would die today. Not the wench. She died last. The death of a beauty would set the stage for Harry Potters heart warming victory. Trust and adoration of Potter must peak for the third challenge so when his Dark Lord used the brats blood to restore himself, then butchered their Boy Who Lived on magical screens shared throughout half the wizarding world and every center of Magical Britain, they would see the might of Voldemort reborn, see the death of their prophesied champion, and give up all hope at the first shot of the new war.

Barty had made plans for each. Probably take the pretty boy first. Cedric Diggory. He couldn't stand the father, so it would be extra spicy to have his boy killed, then polyjuice himself and go offer the old coot his deepest and most sincere apologies.

Still, the wench could get herself killed, burned to death or even eaten alive. That could be fun. What good was being a Death Eater if you couldn't enjoy seeing the hope of the future die screaming in front of you! Let the games begin!

Fleur Delacour stalked out, from rock to rock, the silencing charms on her feet, the scent cancelling charms she cast on her body and clothes, and the notice me not charms she cast upon herself were not enough to make her invisible, but she would not swiftly be noticed until she got close. She had no intention of getting close.

She plotted the point of the golden egg, used her magic to fix its position relative to the larger stones of the field, so that her arithmancy could predict its exact position relative to the larget stones that went deeper into the earth. Then Fleur sat down and began to chant.

The ground beneath her shifted from loose dirt to the far denser magically enhanced stone. This was a charm used by sewer workers in France, it turned loose soil and clay into magically hardened stone denser than metal for water and sewer pipes. It was the magic used to make tunnels and bunkers during the Grindelwald war, not magic that pureblooded students of wealth and status would learn. None of them thought sewer workers or line infantry wizards had anything to teach the great and powerful.

Fleur did not want the respect or admiration of the crowd. She was the most beautiful woman in all of France, she knew it, they knew it. Whatever faint attraction fame and public adoration had once held long turned to shit in her hands. She knew the public to be fickle, jealous, needy, and almost equally savage and stupid. Fleur cared only for victory, not what people thought of her methods.

Using the same magics her ancestors had used to make the famous sewers below Paris, she tunneled under the earth of the field. The first the Welsh Green knew of an issue was when two pale hands reached from the soil to grab the golden egg, and the dragon went wild.

Flame shot into the tunnel, but Fleur had alreay sealed the entrance with the enhanced density stone of the sewers, and all the dragon fire did was shatter stone of the first foot or two. None made it into the tunnel with the witch.

Emerging from the other end of the tunnel under her sound and scent cancelling charms, her notice me not lasted until she was ten feet from the exit to the grounds, when the Welsh Green finally caught sight of her. It charged, but its heavy neck chain pulled it up short of the door as Fleur bolted through.

A win without style, without drama, and that won only boos from the frustrated crowd. Fleur dusted herself off, her workman's robes in blue showed not a scratch or scorch. That was what mattered.

Victor Krum, true to his Durmstrang training went on the attack. Darting in among the stones, he struck with a conjunctivitis curse to blind one eye of the fireball, then apparated to the other side. Underestimating the dragon's hearing, he was met with a blast of fire as he launched his second attack, taking severe burns as he blinded the dragon's other eye.

Both champion and dragon half mad with pain, Krum again apparated close to the nest and snatched his egg. The dragon in a panic turned to charge him, and Krum transfigured the ground into a wall that tripped the spinning dragon, causing her to crush two of her eggs.

The death of her babies drove the Fireball mad. Blind and wounded, it lunged after Krum who ducked around a large standing stone, trusting the rock to catch the Fireballs's chain and pull it up short. Instead, the dragon's chain hit the edge of the rock with so much force the chain broke and the Dragon dove its jaws down at the panicking Bulgarian, still several meters from the door and safety. Krum launched his most poweful cutting curse into the mouth of the snapping Fireball, driving up through the roof of her mouth and into her brain.

A Nesting mother and two precious eggs were dead, but Krum lived. He limped to the champions gate, and staggered through it.

Cedric Diggory did what everyone assumed Krum would do, and summoned his broom. The Hufflepuff seeker knew his own abilities on a broom and the strength of a seeker in striking first and fastest. He also knew it took a team to keep a seeker alive, and was alone.

Alone, with a wand. he sat about transfiguring dirt into crows. Then he sat about animating crows, and then because he wasn't an idiot, he set about casting illusions on the crows to make them look like him, and notice me nots on himself, so that in a crowd of Cedric Diggory's on broomsticks, he would be the least noticeable. Dragons could see through invisibility, but they still noticed the closest moving objects first. Cedric would just fly less aggressively than the crows illusioned as himself that he had programmed to harass the Swedish Short Snout mother.

Cedric waited for his chance, high and far from the nest, he waited until his crows had baited the dragon away from the nest, two of them flamed to nothingness already before he dove. He dove for the nest and sloth rolled on the bottom of his broom to snatch the egg so he would never slow, and pointed himself to the champions gate.

Barty Crouch had given up shouting. "He's there you broody lizard. No, not that one. The one in the back you ignorant reptile. Stupid crocodile futtering idiot. YOU ARE IGNORING THE REAL BOY!" Barty shouted. The one he picked to die wasn't even going to get burned!

The Swedish Short Snout saw Diggory at last, but the chain would not reach to the door. He cast his most powerful acid charm, and the fire resistant links weakened like a thousand years of rust. As Diggory flicked his wand to open the champion's door to fly through, the Champion's gate opened before him.

The Swedish Short Snout was a heartbeat behind, driving its head through the gate after the egg stealing Cedric Diggory, and the dragon handlers charged the gate to slam it shut before the dragon could reach him.

The Short Snout couldn't reach Diggory, but a lunge stretching her neck just a bit more than the keepers would have believed possible caught Janice Tweaksbury by the leg. The witch screamed as the Short Snout dragged her back into the arena, throwing her high in the air before slamming her broken body onto the ground where fang and claw opened it, and gutted the dragon keeper before a screaming crowd.

Barty shouted from the Ministerial box. "STILL THE WRONG ONE!"

Turning to his security detail, he complained. "This is what happens when I am not allowed to kill people. Entirely the wrong people die. Mark my words, not killing people is always a mistake. Killing people is always the answer, or you need to find new questions."

The Imperiused Aurors knew on some level that something in that statement was wrong, but wrapped in the bliss of the Imperius Curse, they found it simpler to just sit back, and let Barty tell them when and if they needed to think at all.

Harry Potter slinked onto the field, and began to carve runes into the stone taking a finger to the weeping wounds on his shoulder, he coloured them in his own blood. When the circle was complete it burned gold and Harry reached in and pulled out his own broomstick.

It was the general consensus of Quidditch fans that beaters were the least skilled flyers on the Quidditch pitch, that every other player save the keeper, was a better and more skilled flyer. This was not without some substance, because every other member of the Quidditch team took to the sky to play, and they gave themselves totally to the joy of flying.

Beaters went to war. The sky for them was not a place to play, but a battlefield where a moments inattention was broken bones or shattered skull, where not just your own life, but those of every team mate hung on the razor edge between your skill with broom and bat, and your enemies.

It was his wand first that Harry had in his hand as he dove towards the Hungarian Horntail where she guarded her clutch of precious eggs, and the one golden egg he needed. Diving towards the Horntail, Harry screamed out his charm.

"LUMOUS CORDIS SOLIS!" Harry shouted, and felt his wand heat, and his magical core drop enough of its power he caught his breath, but for one instant, his wand blazed with the light of the heart of the sun.

The crowd screamed, but the dragon who had been sighting in to both burn and bite the diving boy screamed and ducked her head below her wings as she was momentarily blinded.

Casting a powerful "PROTEGO MAXIMUS" Harry skimmed over the nest, casting his most powerful shielding charm on the eggs. No more babies died today. No one else got to die today. Harry would not allow it.

Spinning on his broom and sheathing his wand, Harry pose for a moment in mid air to work out his angles. In the stands Hermione's eyes went wide and she swore loudly.

"Merlin's balls, Harry isn't' wearing anything under that kilt!" Hermione shouted. After a bark of laughter, Sirius patted her on the back. "Pretty sure those aren't Merlin's balls Hermione!"

The blushing Hufflepuff had her eyes covered and her cheeks flaming, so she missed the next critical bit of action.

As the Hungarian Horntail pulled its head out from under its wings, Harry took his goblin steel dagger in his hand and banished it with as much magic as he could muster. With the chime like a church bell, the goblin silver blade cut through the steel links connecting the dragon's collar to his chain.

"Morgana's titties, He missed!" Sirius shouted in fear, as the knife struck like a muggle tank cannon, shattering not the impossibly dense scales of the Hungarian Horntails neck, but the chain that bound it to the ground. It was Harry's only goblin silver blade.

Griphook's claws tore into his own seat as he snarled. "My son did not miss. He struck the chain for a reason."

Harry swept under the dragons chin and off into the sky. The dragon flapped its great wings and tore after him.

"Makes sense." Said Milicent nodding slowly.

"Only way really." Neville agreed.

Sirius looked at them like they were mad. "What are you talking about. He's flying around on a broom made of wood, with twigs that are literal kindling being chased by a fire breathing dragon that hunts from the air!"

Fred grinned and spoke. "Azkaban will do that to you."

George continued. "Too much time on the ground."

Fred agreed. "Can rot your brain."

George mused. "Dragons hunt from the sky."

Fred expanded "Things that crawl on the ground."

George made a flying motion with his hand. "Beaters take to the sky."

Fred slammed a fist into his palm. "To hunt things that fly."

Milicent took pity on the older Gryffindor Dogfather. "The dragon followed Harry into the sky, thinking it's on a hunt."

Neville continued. "Harry led him there, because he is going to war."

Griphook smiled now, his hands relaxing. "Then it is already over. The dragon has lost."

Sirius looked from beater to beater to beater to goblin, then finally turned to Hermione for some semblance of reason. She shrugged helplessly.

"Look, I just pointed out he didn't put on any underwear, I never said he was in danger. Honestly, in the sky he just knows where everything is. He could steal the missiles off a muggle jet fighter mid flight and then paint it pink just for giggles. I have seen him steal letters from post owls just to make them chase him when he wants to play tag."

She shrugged. "Harry is fine. I just hope he doesn't kill that dragon."

Sirius looked unconvinced, but screams from the crowd mad him look up. Harry had lead the Dragon into a harsh climb in a tight spiral, relying on his brooms tighter turn radius to make up for the higher power of the Dragon when it chose to sprint into the sky.

Harry stalled his broom, and dove past the dragon so close he used his beater bat to hammer it on the sensitive nostril as he dove his broom along its flank, so close his hair brushed the wing root. Harry dove for the ground like he intended to plant his broomstick as a new cash crop.

The stadium screamed, sure the boy was going to die in front of them. Barty Crouch was losing his mind in the Ministerial box. If Potter got himself killed and his master could not have blood from his greatest enemy while he still lived, the ritual for his resurrection was ruined.

Sirius heart stopped as he saw his godson fall like a star from heaven, with five tons of rage, flame, and primordial hatred following after.

Harry watched the dragon as it turned to follow him in the dive. Like any raptor, it tucked its wings tight to its body to dive after its prey, the wings would flare to allow it to control its strike . At least, they would if they weren't stupid enough to follow Harry Potter in a dive. He reached back with his wand and shouted "Expecto Patronum!"

The bright silver basilisk flared from Harry's wand and wrapped like a living chain around the dragon's body, binding its wings to its body. Harry pulled out of his dive to skim the ground at less than a meter's clearance, close enough his boots had to be tucked up not to drag.

The Dragon lost seconds where its wings were bound, and gravity had its way unhindered. With no more control than a meteor, the Dragon struck the ground.

Harry swept his broom around and dismounted at the Dragon's snout. He cast "Incarcerous" and chains bound the dragon's mouth shut.

Moving to the dragon's eyes, where the stunned beast whimpered helplessly, Harry Potter faced it and spoke, his magic filling his words with power.

"$ I am Speaker. I swear upon my magic, my blood, and my name that I will not harm you or your eggs. I will remove the thing the humans placed in your nest, then I will free you. This I swear. $ "

Harry's wand slashed down. Walking slowly to the nest, he banished his Protego, took the golden egg, then recast the Protego. Walking slowly back to the stunned Hungarian Horntail, he banished both the incarcerous on her jaws, and the patronus that bound her wings.

Turning his back, Harry Potter stalked to the champions gate and strode through.

In the Ministerial box, Barty was losing what little grip he had on his mind. He cast Reducto twice at the nest to shatter the eggs and spur the stupid lizard who just sat there and watched Harry Potter walk away like this was a picnic, not a life or death battle. The damned Protego held at the long range Barty was shooting from, and worse, people in the crowd and judges box were pointing and shouting about the visible blasts shattering themselves on the precious shield above the dragon eggs.

The Boy Who Lived walked through the champions gate totally unwounded, even unwinded. Barty snarled. He would skin the boy's corpse when the Dark Lord was done with it. He would make himself a set of book covers to document all the atrocities he would commit once the little hero was safely dead.

No one made a fool of Barty Crouch and lived.

Sirius wiped the sweat off his brow and swore softly. "That bloody boy is going to drive me to drink."

Wordlessly, Griphook handed over the flask he had just taken a long series of swallows from.

Sirius brightened, eyed the goblin. "Not your first time?"

Griphook snarled, then gestured about the whole stadium and complained. "This is my circus."

He complained, then pointed a claw at Harry Potter heading for the judges stand.

"Because that is my monkey."

The entire section of Harry Potters family and friends laughed at the Boy Who Lived, also known as the Monkey who Drove Us All to Drink.

The scores came out for each. Fleur got a ten from Madame Maxime and Dumbledore, a two from Karkarov who was bored and saw no violence, a five from Bagman who wanted more of a show, but noted there were no casualties he had to answer for. Her total was 27

Cedric got a 9 from Madame Maxime for brilliant magical work, a 7 from Dumbledore because someone died and somehow Cedric is responsible for a Dragon killing handler. A 5 from Karkarov who doesn't like Hogwarts but got to see some blood at last, and a 5 from Bagman who thought Diggory did well but would have to answer for the dead handler for a score of 26.

Krum got a 3 from Madame Maxime, who didn't like all the killing. A 5 from Dumbledore who was at least glad it wasn't people this time, and admitted that a solo dragon kill by magic alone was amazing spellwork. Karkarov gave him a 10 because he was Krum, and killing is always good. Bagman had signed all the contracts with the dragon reserves and knew the penalties the Ministry would have to pay for the dead mother and destroyed eggs. He awarded only a 5, for a total of 23.

Harry got a 7 from Madame Maxime because he was clearly a cheat of Dumbledores and a dirty second champion in the cub, but he flew so beautifully and didn't harm any dragons so even she could not give him less than that. Dumbledore gave him a 5 because if he gave Harry less than that Pomona Spout and Hufflepuff house would riot. The last reorded Hufflepuff riot was never, and Dumbledore did not want to be the Headmaster that finally sparked one. Karkarov thought it was an exciting battle, but ruined at the end with weakness and mercy, so gave a 3. Ludo Bagman got his show, and not a single dragon, handler, spectator or even competitor was hurt. He gave a solid 10 leaving Harry with 25.

The first challenge was in the books, and the champions took away their golden eggs with Ludo Bagman's cheerful hint that everything they needed to know was inside, and they had until the week after the Yule ball to figure it out.