Death's Reward

by PraiseTheLog

Harry had walked into the Forbidden Forest, and sacrificed himself to defeat Voldemort. He had been expecting to be welcomed by his loved ones in the next great adventure. Instead, he was being offered a reward for a feat he had unknowingly achieved, one he found to tempting to reject. Time-Travel.

6. Chapter 5: The First Task

"Talking/Dialogue"

"Special Dialogue/Spells"

"Special Dialogue"

Thoughts

'Quotes'

Writing/Text

A/N: As a heads up, the design of the place where the first task is held is similar to what was seen in the film but on a much larger scale.

The First Task

---

Hospital Wing, Hogwarts

Monday

November 23rd, 1994

Holding one of Astoria's hands gently within her own, Daphne Greengrass waited patiently as Madam Pomfrey gradually moved the tip of her wand along her sister's form on the bed.

Light brown eyes turned to gaze at her sister's face, a fond smile gracing her soft features when she saw hints of drowsiness appearing in eyes similar to her own.

If it weren't for the fact that she's a brunette like our mother, I'd think I was seeing a younger version of myself, Daphne thought, giving the smaller hand in her grasp a tender squeeze.

Despite her best efforts to suppress it, she was unable to stop the image of her sister lying completely bedridden from flashing within her mind. Along with it came the memory of the heap of emotions she had felt, anguish the most prevalent as she remembered the day she had returned home for the holidays during her second year at Hogwarts.

The start of the school year had been a mixed bag for her. There had been a sense of excitement and ambition in the first few months, but this faded once the petrifications started.

While a small part of her wanted to believe Draco's words about the monster only targeting muggle-borns, the rational part did not want to take the chance. That's why, as soon as Daphne was able to, she left Hogwarts and boarded the train, feeling a mixture of eagerness and relief at returning to her family manor, away from the unknown danger that seemed to lurk behind every corner and every shadow within the castle walls.

However, the joy she had felt dwindled, and dread soon began to take its place once she saw her grave-looking father on the platform. She had been struck speechless, having never seen such a dreadful expression on her father's face, who barely offered a greeting before taking her home and toward Astoria's room.

A harrowing cry of grief had left Daphne's lips once she caught sight of her younger sister lying on her bed, exhausted and frail with dark circles under her bloodshot eyes, unaware of the world around her.

She had darted over to grasp her icy cold hands, growing numb when her parents informed her of the blood malediction that now afflicted Astoria.

The very same one that had tormented her family for generations.

It had no cure. No remedy. Not a ritual or a spell that would alleviate them from this suffering.

Nothing.

They were powerless against this curse. The best they could do was give her sister a Sleeping Draught to let her rest.

Daphne had been inconsolable for days after. She had stayed by her bedside, wanting to spend every moment she could with Astoria, something her parents had understood, being just as devasted as her.

She would only leave her side when she went to grab books from their library in a desperate attempt to find anything that might help.

Unfortunately, what she found was of little use.

The most notable piece of information she had read was that it was assumed that the curse started appearing sometime during the Middle Ages. However, the exact year it began to manifest itself was unknown since her ancestors had initially dismissed the sudden bouts of sickness as nothing noteworthy to record. Then, the Black Plague started to wreak havoc across muggle Europe, and any unusual illness in their family had been attributed to that.

It wasn't until after the plague ended that her ancestors realized it was a blood curse. Soon after, they sought to develop a cure and when that failed, they began to search for whatever information they could find.

Large quantities of money had been spent in various ways, from hiring specialists to scavenge the world to paying other families for permission to look through their libraries. Hundreds of years of detailed transactions were written down, detailing every bit of the Greengrass Family's quest to find any information.

Her father also made contributions to those records, even surpassing many before him.

Over several months, his desire to find anything that could help Astoria led him to deplete a portion of the family wealth, which had once been on par with the wealthiest families. His desperation almost led him to consider asking Lucius Malfoy for permission to look through his family library. He was well aware of the wealth of knowledge pertaining to the Dark Arts contained within, second only to the Black Family with how much it held.

Which would soon be theirs once Draco inherits the Black lordship, Daphne thought grimly, recalling the news of the previous Lord Black's death only a little bit after Astoria had been stricken with the blood curse.

However, before her father could begin to seriously consider asking Lord Malfoy, fortune smiled upon them.

By sheer chance, her father had been visiting one of their farms where they grew potion ingredients when he caught wind of a potion developed by a Spanish Healer living near the Iberian Mountains. Apparently, she had been experimenting with the blood of a Re'em to find a way to grant immense magical strength to the drinker instead of physical. The potion accomplished that to a small degree but also had the effect of strengthening the blood at the same time.

Her father hadn't tried to understand the Healer's explanation of how that worked, simply bringing her to their manor to see if her potion would help Astoria before they cried tears of joy when it did.

Her sister, who had been bedridden for months ever since the blood malediction had manifested in her, found her health improving gradually after a couple of hours. After a couple of days and after taking another dose, she was talking with them again, and after several weeks, she could walk around again with only a little trouble.

While she still had a lingering sense of weakness, and her ability to cast magic was limited to the simplest of spells, it didn't matter to them. That fact that Astoria wouldn't be suffering and completely bedridden for the rest of her life was more than they could have ever wished for.

They made sure to show the Spanish Healer their gratitude, purchasing the recipe for a substantial fee before offering to fund her in hopes that she could improve the potion.

While they were overjoyed with finding a way to treat the curse, they weren't unaware that it had its drawbacks, the most notable being the need to regularly purchase potion ingredients. Acquiring most of them wasn't a problem since her family owned the farms where they grew most of the needed ingredients.

However, getting their hands on Re'em blood was different since there was very little in the open markets, and whatever was available was highly-priced. Not to mention that they would need to supply the healer for her research as well.

It was fortunate that the potion only required a single drop of blood and not an entire vial. Otherwise, their wealth would have been far more depleted than it was.

Of course, her family would have spent the entirety of their vaults with a smile on their face if it meant Astoria lived a long and fulfilling life. But that was before her mother reminded them to think of those who came after them.

There was no telling when, but the blood curse would inevitably reappear in the family. They would have the potion but not the immense wealth they currently had to constantly obtain the Re'em blood. And neither could they bank on the Healer, who had so far yet to find a way to improve the potion.

That's why her father decided to continue looking for a cure after hearing her mother's reasoning.

"Everything seems perfectly fine. I see no problem in letting her attend the first task tomorrow," Madam Pomfrey said, bringing her out of her thoughts. The older woman didn't bat an eye when the Astoria let out a whoop of joy without any signs of the sleepiness that had begun to fall upon her. "However, I must express my concern in allowing such a young girl to attend such an event."

"I have the same concerns," Daphne said before giving her sister a pointed look when she made to protest. "But she wrangled a promise out of me that if she managed to maintain high marks in her schoolwork and if she was feeling well, then she could attend."

"I'm assuming you mean in her theoretical work and not her practical."

"Of course."

"Then I suppose she's earned it," the healer sighed. "However, if she starts feeling unwell, know that I will have a tent close to the arena."

"Arena?" Daphne asked in confusion, making the older woman's eyes widen as she realized her slip-up.

"An Arena?!" Astoria shouted excitedly, getting off the bed quickly before making her way over to stand in front of the healer. "There's going to be an arena? What for? Are they going to duel each other? One on one? Free for all?"

"I'm not going to tell you…Merlin knows I've already told you far too much," Madam Pomfrey said sternly, ignoring the pout that graced the young girl's face. "Please keep what you just heard to yourselves. The professors were already finding it difficult to keep the student's… enthusiasm for the tournament under control. I imagine they would no longer be able to manage if they somehow discovered what the first task would entail."

"We understand," Daphne said, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder and giving her a pointed look once she got her attention. She turned to face the healer. "We'll stop by the tent if we need to."

"Good. Now, off you go. It's almost curfew."

The pair wished the woman goodnight before heading down the corridor leading to the entrance hall. As they walked down the quiet hallway, Astoria turned to look at her enthusiastically.

"They have to be dueling each other. I mean, why else would they have an arena."

"It could be for a different reason. Maybe they're supposed to find something."

"Then why have a healer nearby unless they knew for sure someone would get injured?"

"Why wouldn't they? It's the Triwizard tournament. Someone is bound to get hurt."

Her sister ignored her words, her face turning thoughtful before she slammed a fist into the palm of her hand. "That would explain the burns."

Daphne stopped at the top of the stairs that led to the Entrance Hall before looking at the other girl in confusion.

"What burns?"

"Harry's burns," Astoria told her matter-of-factly, only to sheepishly rub the back of her head when she continued to receive a befuddled look. "Oh, right. I forgot to tell you, but I met Harry Potter."

"…When was this."

"Uhm…last week."

Daphne stared at her for a few seconds before sighing. She started making her way downstairs, and her sister fell into step alongside her. "And why do his burns make you think the first task will be dueling?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The brunette said, opening her mouth to explain before letting out a yelp when she misjudged a step. Only a hand on her shoulder from her older sister saved her from tumbling down the stone staircase.

Daphne pulled her back before giving her a stern glare.

"Watch your step."

"Right…" Astoria murmured embarrassedly before clearing her throat. "Anyway, Harry was being treated by Madam Pomfrey when I stopped by to pick up my potions. He had these wicked burns covering almost his entire arm. It was all red and blistering, and you could even see the muscle underneath the skin. It was kind of cool to look at, even if it was a little disgusting."

The girl started gesturing to her arm once they reached the bottom of the staircase, showing where these burns would have been. Daphne merely raised an eyebrow as they passed the dining hall and down another staircase that led to the dungeon floor.

"Okay…but I still don't see how that means they're dueling for the first task."

"Come on, Daphne. Use that head of yours. How else would he have gotten hurt if he wasn't practicing how to duel?"

Astoria gave her an exasperated look.

"Maybe he tried casting a fire-based spell and messed up," The blonde girl suggested. "Potter has been struggling with his spell work recently."

"Ugh, whatever. You'll see that I'm right tomorrow."

Daphne turned to give her sister an amused smile before a flash of white in one of the side corridors behind the girl grabbed her attention. With her eyes narrowing in confusion, she continued to stare at the place for a moment, ignoring the questioning look her sister was giving her.

"Sorry, it's just…," she glanced back at her sister. "I thought I saw a ghost over there."

"Probably just the Bloody Baron."

"But this one seemed smaller…and I didn't hear his chains," the blonde murmured.

"Want to go see what it was?" Astoria asked after a moment, getting a small shake of the head in return.

"Hardly. I was just curious, is all," Daphne said as she continued walking forward, grabbing her sister's hand to drag her along. "Come on, let's get back to the common room before we get caught out past curfew."

---

With a soft snap, Harry shut the book he had decided to browse through for the night, one of the two his godfather had given him the day he had visited.

A light frown crossed his face when a crest manifested into view in the top left corner of the black leather book, his features tightening in displeasure at the sight of the two words at the bottom of the emblem.

Toujours Pur.

Always Pure…Harry translated within his head, disgust swelling inside him as he looked at the motto of the House of Black before grimacing just as the crest began to fade away. The house I am now the heir of… I still don't have a clue what that means.

Harry had raised his concern with Hermione soon after Sirius had left them in the Shrieking Shack, not overly surprised when she admitted to her own lack of knowledge. Even less so when she didn't waste any time heading to the library to find whatever information she could. So far, she hadn't found anything except some passing references, but she promised him she wouldn't stop searching until she found something more helpful.

Harry had offered to help, but the girl had instantly rejected his offer, firm in her belief that he had far more pressing matters to focus on, a sentiment he found hard to argue against.

Finding out what being an heir meant was not a priority at the moment, not when the first task was drawing nearer and preparing for it had already taken up most of his time. Adding several new spells to learn in just a couple of days had only consumed the rest of it, with one in particular being his main focus.

Of course, Hermione immediately noticed and expressed concern for him, feeling he was pushing himself too much. He had tried to soothe her worry a bit, assuring her that he was getting enough rest, but she hadn't been convinced.

He only managed to appease the girl after promising to rest the day before the first task, even if she hadn't been entirely happy once he told her of his intentions of spending it alone.

I'll make it up to her after the first task. Harry thought as he placed the book he had been reading on the table before leaning back into his chair with a deep sigh.

"Find anything else that might be useful?" Salazar asked, raising an eyebrow when he received a slow nod.

"Plenty. However, most of the spells left look like they'll be too difficult to get the hang of any time soon."

"Then, the ones your godfather had marked will have to suffice. The rest you can leave for another time."

"Guess I learned everything I could," Harry said softly, earning agreeing nods from the portrait and Helena, who had drifted over from where she had been browsing the shelves.

"Let us hope it is enough," she commented. "I believe it's time for you to get some sleep."

"Before that, I have a gift for you," Salazar announced suddenly, drawing curious looks from the pair.

"A gift?" Harry repeated slowly.

"Yes. A reward for all of the effort you've put into training this past month…On the floor at the end of the bed, there is a trunk that will reveal itself once you have asked for it."

Harry eyed the founder for another second before standing up and heading over to the foot of the bed. Crouching down onto one knee, he stared at the stone floor thoughtfully before laying his hand on it.

§ Trunk §

In response, a leather handle immediately snapped into existence from within the stone, which he grabbed before pulling it upwards, revealing a simple black trunk about half the size of his school one.

Harry carried it back over to the other two and placed it on the table before opening it, shivering a little when Helena's ghostly form brushed up against him as she came to take a look.

Sleek, black material greeted his eyes, which he immediately identified as dragonhide. He took it out gently and held it out in front of him.

"Dueling robes?"

"Battle robes. The first set I had as a young man…I decided to keep them for sentiment's sake," Salazar told them, eyeing the material that was beginning to be strewn out on the table with a bit of fondness. "What do you think? Magnificent, aren't they?"

"They are…," Harry admitted softly before looking at the founder with an unsure expression. "And…you're fine giving this to me?"

"I wouldn't have told you about them if I wasn't," Salazar said with a scoff. "Plus, I believed you could make better use of them for the tournament instead of simply leaving them inside a trunk, never to be used again."

Harry nodded appreciatively at the portrait before running a finger across the material, examining the tiny spots of damage covering almost every inch of it. However, a closer inspection revealed that they were what he assumed was an intricate array of runic symbols that he had no hope of understanding.

Hermione might be able to make some sense of it, Harry thought before shaking his head. "Well, at least I won't have to use my quidditch robes tomorrow."

His words earned a derisive scoff from the portrait, who did not attempt to hide how preposterous he found the idea, but before he could comment on it, Helena spoke up.

"I didn't believe you capable of gifting anything, Salazar. Especially something that looks so elegant," she said, still eyeing the robes with interest. "This dragonhide…what species does it belong to?"

The founder let out a huff before answering.

"From a Hebridean Black dragon," Salazar said before gazing slightly off to the side as he reminisced. "An awfully aggressive one that became too difficult to handle for the MacFusty Family, its handlers. And it must have been if a family renowned for their ability to handle these beasts felt no longer capable of doing so…This piece of dragonhide was given to my grandfather as payment for helping them put it down."

"Your grandfather killed a dragon?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

"Not by himself. Close to thirty wizards gathered to end the beast's life, of which only eleven lived to receive their payment. My grandfather among those."

Nineteen killed…Harry thought as a grim look crossed his face, an expression mirrored by the ghost beside him as they remembered what awaited him tomorrow.

Helena quickly spoke up, seemingly not wanting to dwell on the matter.

"And he had it made into these robes?"

Salazar shook his head.

"No. He gave me the material as a coming-of-age gift, telling me to do with it what I wanted," the founder shrugged. "And I honestly had no clue what to do with it except commission a new set of robes. They served me well, and I have no doubt they will do the same for you. Go on. Try them on."

Harry looked curiously at the robes for a second before taking off the loose shirt he had been wearing. His movements showed no hint of hesitation or embarrassment, having long since grown accustomed to leaving some part of his skin exposed after years spent in the quidditch locker rooms. Not to mention when he lived alongside his friends inside a tent while they were on the run.

"There is a bathroom you could have used," Helena squeaked out from beside him, having hastily covered her eyes.

Harry shrugged as he pulled on the chest piece of the battle robes, the material fixing itself snugly against him, almost like a second skin.

"It's very light," he commented to the portrait as he shifted his torso from side to side. "Lighter than my quidditch robes."

"An effect of one of the enchantments placed on it. When I decided to get battle robes, I wanted them to have some enchantments. So, I sought a Byzantine wizard named Georgius to make them for me. At that time, he was the most talented enchanter in the world, capable of weaving a multitude of enchantments into even the most difficult of material," Salazar said, his tone carrying a hint of respect. "Charged me a fair bit of gold, but it was to be expected considering the complexity of what I was asking for."

"It certainly looks complex…What other enchantments does it have?"

"Hmm, well, the most useful ones for tomorrow are the ones that will soften the impact of physical blows and another that will provide a minor bit of protection against fire."

"The protection against the fire? How minor are we talking about?" Harry asked interestedly, gazing at the portrait along with Helena, who had gotten over her embarrassment.

"You won't suffer instantaneous burns if you were to be hit by the flames," the founder said, sneering when the young man visibly deflated. "What? Did you think it would allow you to withstand a dragon's fire without ever facing harm? Ridiculous…Such a thing was beyond Georgius's capabilities. "

"It would have been nice," he muttered before looking at the founder with confusion. "I thought you said Georgius was the most accomplished enchanter?"

"In that time, he was," the founder said. "But for all his abilities, his enchanted devices paled in comparison to artifacts crafted centuries before."

Harry looked at the man in confusion, having no idea what he was talking about, but the spirit beside him seemed to understand.

"You're comparing his works to items that might have been nothing more than fantasy," Helena said before looking at him pointedly. "I thought you were above believing in the implausible."

"I was, but after hearing your resolve to discover a solution to our little Horcrux problem, I have found myself once again interested in finding out whether or not they existed."

"Again?"

Salazar nodded at her.

"When I was young and full of fervor, and before I had met the other founders, I had searched for anything that might hint at their existence. Scoured the entirety of the magical world for years, but to my disappointment, I found nothing but fanciful stories and ludicrous rumors that I dismissed as nothing worthwhile to investigate…My interest in the matter disappeared soon after."

"Until now. After hearing about the Horcrux," Harry pointed out, earning a nod from the man. "Why?"

"Herpo the Foul," Salazar said before beginning to elaborate. "Out of all the outlandish leads I might have explored, there was one I always found more likely than the rest. There were…whispers…in the oldest parts of the magical world that there existed texts pertaining to these artifacts. Supposedly, in the possession of families that were descendants of Herpo."

"But he had no children," Helena instantly interjected with a heavy frown. "I've been searching in the library for anything that might relate to him, but I have found nothing that suggests he had children. Not even a wife or a lover that could hint of the possibility."

"I'm well aware of that, but since we'll be scouring the world for anything about the man already, I see no harm in keeping an eye out for any hint that he might have had children."

The founder turned his attention away from the spirit and toward the young man beside her, giving him an expectant look.

Ultimately, the decision would be his.

I certainly don't choose the easy quests, Harry voiced within his mind before slowly nodding his head at the portrait.

---

Great Hall, Hogwarts

Tuesday

November 24th, 1994

Doing her best to suppress a yawn, Hermione blinked blearily as she scanned her Charms notes before lifting her head. She looked at Neville sitting across from her, giving the boy a second to prepare himself before mimicking the wand movements of a spell with her finger.

"Body-Bind Curse," Neville said after taking a few moments to think about it, earning a nod of confirmation from her.

"Good job," Ginny remarked from beside him, having decided to eat with them today. Her words of praise earned a bashful smile from the boy as he got another question right.

Which is happening more often, she thought as she remembered how much the boy had struggled the first time his knowledge had been tested.

Hermione and Harry had been in the library this past Sunday and had just finished researching the four species of dragons he had seen in the forest when Neville had stopped by their table.

Apparently, the boy had been searching for Harry specifically to pass on a suggestion given to him by Professor Moody.

Despite growing up a bit nervous when Harry frowned heavily, Neville proceeded to share with him the older man's advice of using his broomstick.

Harry had dismissed it swiftly.

Hermione hadn't been of the same mind and had tried to have him at least consider the idea of flying around the dragon, but to no avail. She hadn't been pleased and had only been placated once he explained his fear of having another broom of his destroyed.

After remembering the pained look on his face when the broken pieces of his Nimbus were returned to him, she decided to back off. She dared not imagine how upset he would be if the same thing happened to the Firebolt gifted to him by Sirius.

Neville had stood off silently to the side, watching their exchange before making to leave when once it appeared that Harry would stick to his original decision, only to be surprised when the raven-haired boy called for him to join them in studying.

While she had been caught off guard, she didn't protest, not even when Harry suggested that the boy join them more often.

Neville had accepted, albeit uncertainly, still looking bewildered as he tried to figure out the reason for the unexpected invitation. The expression remained on his face as he studied alongside them, growing more prominent when they showed no signs of frustration with how often he asked for help.

Eventually, he worked up the courage to ask why.

"You have the potential to become a great wizard, Neville…and I want to help you realize it."

Harry's response had been simple, but filled with genuine honesty that had caught the other boy off guard. Even she had been surprised, more so when he had turned to look at her to express the same sentiment.

Hermione still vividly recalled the overwhelming warmth she felt upon hearing his words and the admiration she couldn't help but feel for her friend. It amazed her that he still had the capacity to think of others despite all the hardships life had thrown at him.

Her best friend was a wonderful person, which made the worry she felt for him today even greater.

From the moment she left Harry's side and made her way up the stairs to her dormitory last night, unease started to well up inside of her. An ache in her gut that had intensified with every passing minute that she didn't lay her eyes on him. She had tossed and turned endlessly on her bed throughout the night. Her mind, which for so long had been her ally, began to conjure horrible images of what may happen to the boy she cared so deeply for. Any attempt to wipe them from her head proved fruitless.

In an attempt to alleviate her worry, Hermione had found herself tempted with the idea of sneaking over to his bedside so she could reassure herself that he was alright.

Only the risk of being discovered stopped her from following through.

Eventually, she fell asleep in the early morning hours, offering her the briefest of respites from the dread that had begun to envelop her.

All of it came rushing back into her once she had woken up, and it had taken all her effort just to keep it from showing on her face as she walked toward History of Magic.

She was thankful Professor Binns was entirely unaware of what was happening in his classroom. Otherwise, the ghost would have easily spotted that she was barely paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth.

I should try and see if Madam Pomfrey would be willing to give me a Pepper-Up Potion, Hermione thought as she scanned through her Charms textbook, raising a slightly trembling hand to her mouth to suppress another yawn. Maybe even a Calming Draught…

A pair of questioning looks were sent in her direction.

"I'm fine…just didn't get a lot of sleep last night," she told them, waving it off before looking at Neville. "What's the incantation for the summoning charm?"

"Accio."

"Correct. Now, the wand movement is fairly simple. It's just a downward arch starting—."

"Upward arch," Neville cut in before hesitantly continuing."…downward is for the banishing charm."

Hermione stared at the boy opposite her, blinking slowly before releasing a breath of frustration, quickly smothering it when a deflated look appeared on Neville's face in response.

"No, no…You're correct. I mixed up the wand movements…and I don't mind you correcting me," Hermione said gently, giving the boy an encouraging smile when he didn't look convinced. "I'm being honest, Neville."

"If you say so…," he murmured as he stared down at his bowl of soup, stirring it slowly. "It's just… you're a lot smarter than me…and better at magic than I am."

"That doesn't mean Hermione can't be wrong every once in a while," Ginny added from beside the boy, earning a slow nod of agreement from the other girl.

"…I just don't want you guys to start thinking I'm a waste of time or that I'm not putting in the effort."

"Neither myself nor Harry would ever think that," Hermione told him firmly. "We both know you're trying your best, and as long as you continue doing that, we'll keep helping you."

After taking a few moments to digest her words, a small, shy smile crept onto the boy's face.

"Thank you," Neville said gratefully.

Hermione gave him a small smile before turning her attention to Ginny, who had suddenly leaned forward.

"Hey, do you think Harry would mind if I joined you guys as well?"

"I…don't think he would," the bushy-haired girl replied. "But it'd be best to ask him. Just to make sure."

Ginny nodded with an excited look that Hermione couldn't help but find a little bit annoying.

Probably because I barely slept, she reasoned in her mind before looking at the other girl firmly. "But don't ask him today."

"Why not?"

"I don't want him getting distracted."

"It's just a simple question. Won't even take a minute."

"Ginny…"

"Ugh, fine," the redhead grumbled for a bit before her eyes caught sight of something behind her back. "…I think Professor McGonagall wants to speak with us."

The three turned their attention to the approaching woman, who stopped beside them.

"Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mister Longbottom," the woman greeted before glancing at each of them. "Would any of you know where Mister Potter might be? None of the professors or students have seen him today, and I'm growing concerned."

Hermione nodded, making the older woman turn her gaze toward her.

"He's probably in one of the abandoned classrooms of the castle," she said before making to explain when the professor raised an eyebrow. "He wanted to be alone today but should be coming to eat something any moment now."

The stern expression on the woman softened just a tad before she nodded a moment later.

"I understand," McGonagall said. "Just make sure he doesn't eat anything too heavy. I'm supposed to be escorting him down to the forest in about an hour and a half."

"I'll make sure he doesn't," Hermione responded, her brows scrunching together when she heard Ginny say the same thing behind her.

The Transfiguration professor looked between them for a second before nodding as she started making her way towards the staff table.

Only a few minutes after the woman departed did a hushed silence fall upon the dining hall. Curious at the sudden change, Hermione looked around, quickly noticing that everyone was looking in the direction of the entrance before doing the same.

A gasp left her lips once she caught sight of the reason for the abrupt change in atmosphere.

Harry had walked into the Great Hall, wearing boots of the same color as his form-fitting, jet-black robes that seemed to shimmer slightly under the small amount of sunlight that filtered through the windows. His black, shoulder-length hair had been swept to the sides, showcasing the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

Merlin…He looks so… Hermione's voice trailed off at the end, not daring to say the last part even within the confines of her mind. She continued to stare at him in a daze, unconsciously wetting her suddenly dry lips as he strode confidently down the aisle in her direction.

In a bid to regain her composure, she looked away from him for a moment and took a deep breath before looking around at the other tables. She quickly noticed that every pair of eyes in the dining hall was fixated on her friend's attire.

I think this is the first time in about a month that most of them didn't look at Harry with outright hostility, Hermione commented within her mind as she turned back toward her approaching friend, annoyance again growing within her directed toward Ginny once she noticed the way the redhead was staring at him.

"Afternoon," Harry greeted with a smile as soon as he sat down beside her, barely batting an eye when excited chatter filled the hallway as soon as he did.

The three of them returned his greeting timidly before Hermione cleared her throat softly, the first to properly regain her composure.

"I thought you were planning to use your quidditch robes."

"I was, but more because they were the only robes I owned that would give me any sort of protection, which wasn't a lot," he admitted, a small grimace crossing his face.

His expression made Hermione instantly remember what awaited him for the first task, and all of her earlier apprehension that seemed to have disappeared upon his arrival came rushing back into her.

Suddenly, the idea of him standing before a monstrous, fire-breathing beast wearing nothing but his quidditch robes seemed absurd.

"And these are better?" she asked shakily, letting out a quiet exhale when he nodded.

"Much better."

"Good…Then, I'm glad that you them."

"And they look great on you," Ginny added shyly.

That's hardly important now, is it?! Hermione shouted within her mind as she pursed her lips tightly together. She resisted the urge to voice her opinion out loud, reasoning to herself that the other girl had no clue that the first task involved dragons.

"Uh…Thank you, Ginny," Harry responded, giving her a hesitant smile that made a small blush appear on the girl's cheeks.

"You should start eating," Hermione said tersely before the younger girl could say anything in return. She grabbed an empty bowl. "Professor McGonagall stopped by earlier and told us you had about an hour and a half before she was supposed to take you down to the forest."

Harry nodded in understanding before sending her an amused grin.

"I can make my plate, you know."

"I know you can, but this is my way of helping you," Hermione answered, piling a small portion of oatmeal onto the bowl alongside a bagel. "Plus, this way, I can make sure you won't eat anything too heavy."

"Does that mean no treacle tart?"

"You can have it after," she said as she placed the bowl in front of him.

"I'm sure a small slice of it won't do him any harm," said Ginny.

"I'd rather not take that chance," Hermione told her firmly before facing Harry again. "Not unless you're fine with throwing it back up."

"Yeah, I'd rather not see that," Neville said weakly. "I get really nauseous when I see other people throw up."

"I guess the oatmeal will have to do for now," Harry said as he began eating, but his tone suggested he wasn't too bothered by that.

"I'll make sure to bring you plenty of treacle tart after," Hermione said as she placed a hand on his arm, earning a wide grin from him that she readily returned.

Hermione paid no mind to the tiny glare she could feel start boring into her as she left her hand where it was, even ignoring the quiet cough that reached her ears.

Deal with it, she voiced within her mind as she prepared her meal with one hand.

Was it a bit immature of her?

Yes, but she figured she was well within her rights to behave in such a way after having spent most of the night worrying over the young man sitting beside her.

If she wanted to reassure herself that Harry was still alive and well before he left her side, then why shouldn't she?

And if Ginny has a problem with it, she's more than welcome to say something.

---

"Potter, the champions must come down onto the grounds now…"

A sigh of relief nearly left Harry's mouth when Professor McGonagall's voice reached his ears from down the aisle, saving him from a very uncomfortable atmosphere.

He had no idea when it started or what had caused Hermione and Ginny to exchange unfriendly glances. The only reason he had even noticed it was because Hermione's grip on his arm kept tightening with each passing minute. From that moment on, he had started to spot out of the corner of his eye the frosty looks they were giving each other.

Perhaps if he weren't due to face a dragon in a couple of hours, Harry would have considered saying something. Instead, he endured the tense mood, eating his oatmeal as slowly as possible until his head of house decided it was time.

Any longer, and I think Ginny might have pulled out her wand, He thought before nodding at the three of them.

"Good luck," Neville said.

"I'm sure you'll do great, Harry," Ginny said before reaching across the table to clasp the hand that was free, drawing a sharp inhale from the bushy-haired girl beside him. A shy grin made its way onto her freckled face as she gave it a small squeeze. "I'll be cheering you on."

That was bold, Harry thought as he gave her a small smile, still unsure what to do regarding his past girlfriend. The main source of his indecision was the hint of idolization he could see present in her eyes as she looked at him. …a part of her still sees me as the Boy-Who-Lived.

"…appreciate it," he told her after she drew her hand back.

He made to stand up, but Hermione suddenly pulled him into a bone-crushing hug before he could.

"You'll be fine," she whispered shakily into his ear, her words sounding more for herself than for him.

"Course I will," Harry answered softly, squeezing her reassuringly.

His eyes widened a second later when he felt her lips brush faintly across his cheek before she pulled away from him, a bashful look on her face.

Oh…

Harry stood up absentmindedly before going over to Professor McGonagall, who was staring behind him with a stern look on her face. She turned back to face him before leading him down the aisle.

Excited chatter followed the pair as they walked down the tables, becoming more frenzied as students began to hastily finish their meals in a bid to start heading towards the arena. The noise inside the dining hall soon reached another level just as the pair passed the large double doors before dwindling into a low murmur with every step they took toward the castle grounds.

All this was barely registered by Harry, who raised a hand to his cheek, still trying to come to terms with what had just happened.

Well…that would explain the cold looks they were giving each other.

"Ponder over it another time, Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall said, bringing his focus onto her. While she was staring at him firmly, he could see a bit of concern in her eyes. "You'll need to be fully focused on the task ahead…I doubt very much the dragon would be so generous as to give a moment respite simply because you were distracted after receiving a chaste kiss on the cheek."

After a few seconds, Harry turned his attention back to the front before patting his cheeks repeatedly.

"Right…just caught me by surprise," he murmured.

The woman nodded as they continued walking down the path to the forest. Silence persisted between professor and student for several moments before Harry glanced at the older woman beside him. An amused smile threatened to make its way onto his face once he caught sight of the bit of anxiousness on her normally unruffled face.

"I don't think I've seen you look so worried," he commented once they had arrived at the forest's edge. "One would think you're the one about to face a dragon and not me."

A corner of his lip twitched upwards when his words garnered the smallest widening of her eyes before his head of house shot him another severe look.

"I'd almost find that preferable," McGonagall said. "I was quite concerned when you were chosen as a champion, and your performances in class these past few weeks have done nothing to alleviate that."

"I wouldn't put too much stock on how I was doing in class."

"Are you implying you weren't trying?"

"Well, not really," Harry shrugged. "Most of my time and effort was spent preparing for the first task."

"And do you believe you are?"

"I do."

"…Good."

The two of them stepped into the denser part of the forest, and it wasn't long before Harry noticed the towering backend of one of the grand spectators' stands peeking through the forest foliage. A lively buzz was already coming from the large arena, the excitement palpable even from a distance that only made the small bundle of nerves Harry had been feeling grow slightly in intensity.

"You're to go in there with the other champions and wait for the first task to begin," McGonagall told him while leading him to the large tent at the base of one of the stands. The anxiousness she had displayed earlier was back, evident in how she had spoken her words shakily. She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. "Good luck, Mister Potter."

Harry nodded confidently, earning himself a look of approval from the older woman before he made his way inside the tent, immediately spotting that he was the last of the champions to arrive.

Viktor was sitting on one of the two beds off in the corner, his face harsher than usual as he stared absentmindedly at the green carpet underneath his feet. The quidditch star paid no mind to anything around him, not sparing a glance in Harry's direction or even to Cedric's nervous pacing beside him. The Hufflepuff was muttering something under his breath, oblivious that the fourth champion had just arrived.

Out of the three other champions, only Fleur seemed to have noticed his arrival, even making her way over to him once he sat on a bench inside the tent.

She looked remarkably composed. Only the way she fiddled with her fingers let him know she was nervous, a far cry from the clamminess and paleness she had displayed the first time.

Maybe my little pep talk helped her out more than I thought, Harry voiced in his mind before curiously eyeing the attire of the young woman who had taken a seat beside him.

In contrast to the other two champions, who had elected to wear the same things as his previous life, Fleur had opted to wear a navy blue, form-fitting leather top and a knee-length skirt of the same color. Underneath, she wore grey tights tucked into brown armguards and boots.

Fleur was quick to pick up where his attention was drawn toward.

"It's my grandmother's," she began softly before clearing her throat and speaking a bit firmer. "…I sent a letter back home the morning after we saw the dragons asking for something suitable to wear, and these arrived just an hour ago."

"That's cutting it quite close."

"It was, and I'm grateful it did since these will protect me a lot better than some simple quidditch robes," Fleur said with a glance at the other two behind her, who didn't seem to have heard her words. She looked back towards him before leaning in closer to inspect his attire with a careful eye, even running a finger across the material. "And it seems you had the same thought."

"An…acquaintance gifted it to me once they realized it would serve me better."

"Quite the gift. This doesn't appear to be a common type of dragon hide, and these marks…" Fleur suddenly lowered her head to his chest as she examined the symbols on the material. "Is there an enchantment on these robes?"

"Enchantments," Harry said, making her glance up briefly. "As in, there's more than one."

"Remarkable," she whispered, leaning away a moment later before throwing him a pleasant grin. "Any chance this acquaintance of yours would have other robes they would be willing to part with?"

"Unlikely," Harry responded, a grin making its way on his face when she pouted lightly before the entrance to the tent parted open.

Ludo Bagman walked inside, a blinding smile adorning his face, showcasing his excitement. Rita and her photographer followed just behind him, with the bespectacled woman wearing a wide smile. A gleam of interest entered the reporter's eyes once she noticed Harry and Fleur sitting beside each other. The pair immediately noticed and gave the woman a pointed look as they reminded her of their agreement, which made her huff lightly in annoyance.

"Ah! Good! You've finally arrived, Harry!" Bagman said cheerfully before waving excitedly at the champions to come closer. "Gather around! Gather around!"

The four of them did so slowly, their expressions hardening as they approached the man, whose smile seemed to widen even further if that was even possible.

Bagman made to continue speaking when a flash from the photographer enveloped the room.

"Sorry," Rita said, her smile as unauthentic as her apology. She seemed unfazed by the glares directed at her and the photographer. "But my photographer will be capturing as many moments of the tournament as possible."

"Only official events," Viktor said harshly before glowering at the reporter when she made to object, making her huff. "No more."

"Fine…I suppose that's reasonable. Of course, the same doesn't have to apply to everyone else," Rita drawled out, plastering a smile onto her face as her eyes passed over the rest of the champions.

Her smile became strained when Harry and Fleur shook their heads resolutely before widening again once her gaze landed on an indecisive Cedric, throwing him a wink.

Harry's eyes narrowed at the sight before a cough from the former quidditch player grabbed their attention.

"Yes, well…you can leave the matter for another time. The stands are very nearly full, meaning it's almost time to begin, but first," Bagman said, reaching into his robes and producing a purple silk bag. "See this bag here? Each of you will reach into and pull out a small model of what you are about to face. They're all different, but the goal will be the same for each of you…your task is to collect the golden egg!"

Harry nodded and, out of his eye, saw the others do the same. All four were eyeing the bag intently as if trying to see through the silk.

"The selection is entirely random. Down to pure luck of the draw," he said, looking at each of them. "Moody made sure there would be no funny business of any kind."

His words made Harry look away from the bag and toward the former quidditch player, slightly surprised before his eyes tightened once he noticed that Bagman's gaze would linger on him for a bit longer.

He thinks I'll try and cheat…maybe because of how I entered the tournament, or maybe the fake Moody said something to him…Harry thought, his gaze returning to the purple silk with a hint of trepidation. And if that man is involved …there's a chance he tampered with the bag.

"Now that I've explained things, we can begin," Bagman said before extending the bag toward Fleur while sending her what he thought was a charming smile, which she ignored. "Ladies first."

Fleur raised her hand slowly, cautiously putting it into the bag before drawing it back quickly when another flash traveled through the tent.

"A bit of warning would be nice," she said acidly, glowering at Rita and her assistant before reaching harshly into the bag.

"Ah! The Swedish Short-Snout!" Bagman announced once she pulled out the blueish figure with a number one around its neck.

Another flash swept past them, one the French witch didn't register as she was still focusing on the tiny dragon prowling around in her hand.

That's a different one than last time… Harry realized, momentarily eyeing the figure in her hand before looking back toward the bag.

A bit of hope entered his emerald eyes at the possibility of avoiding the largest and most vicious of the four dragons, only for the feeling to dim slightly when Viktor pulled out the same scarlet figure of the Chinese Fireball as he had last time.

That leaves the least aggressive of the four dragons…and the most.

Harry watched with bated breath as Cedric put a hand inside the bag with his eyes closed before opening them tentatively a second later. A tiny sigh left Harry's mouth as he saw the copy of the Common Welsh Dragon curling into a ball in the palm of the Hufflepuff's hand.

He moved over to place his hand into the silk bag, a small wince crossing his face when his fingers immediately came under attack before yanking out the dragon he would face.

"The Hungarian Horntail," Bagman whispered, eyeing the figure of it nervously along with those around him. Fleur, in particular, was staring at it in alarm. "You'll be going last, Mister Potter."

Harry nodded absentmindedly, his stomach churning as he stared at the minuscule beast stretching its wings, minuscule roars leaving its mouth as it did its best to intimidate him.

He only looked away after noticing the numerous photographs Rita's photographer had been taking, sending a harsh glare in the cameraman's direction.

Bagman clapped his hands together, drawing everyone's attention.

"Right then! Dragons have been drawn, and the order in which you all will go has been decided. Now, I need to head out because I'll be doing commentary…Miss Delacour, head to the enclosure once you hear the whistle."

After receiving a stiff nod from her, he began making his way toward the exit, a wave of noise from the arena engulfing the tent's interior as he left alongside Rita and the photographer.

Harry stared at the entrance with confusion, having expected the former quidditch star to ask for a private chat before shrugging.

Not like I was going to humor him, Harry thought as he approached the Fleur.

The Veela was beginning to tremble slightly with her arms crossed and her wand clutched tightly in one hand, acutely aware that she would face a dragon in only a few minutes. Her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths to calm her nerves, glancing at him once he stopped to stand beside her.

"I feel like I'm about to vomit," she murmured, giving him a pained smile that looked more like a wince.

"Well, if you do, make sure you do so away from me…I just got these robes, and I'd rather not have them stained so soon," Harry said lightly, earning a small snort of amusement in response.

"In that case, I'll make sure to turn towards you," she said, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards before giving him a serious look. "…Do you think you'll be able to manage?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"I'm not the one who drew the Horntail," Fleur gave him a severe look. "Do you even have a plan?"

"For the most part, I do, but I'm also going to be making it up as I go along," Harry said with a shrug, not surprised to see her narrow her eyes at him. "Having a plan is good and all, but I don't doubt that at some point during the first task, I'll find myself in a position I haven't planned for. When that happens, I'll need to be able to think on the spot."

Fleur eyed him silently for a moment, her lips pursed tightly as she took in his words.

While Harry knew she had managed to bewitch the dragon asleep using her allure last time around, that had been against the Common Welsh. This time, she was going up against the Swedish Short-Snout, which, based on the information Hermione had gathered up for him, was far more resistant to that type of magic.

If she plans on using her allure again, it might not work as well as before. If at all. Harry voiced in his mind, pleased when the woman finally nodded in understanding before an amused grin broke through her nervous demeanor.

"Why do I feel like you just gave me some advice?"

"Because I did," Harry told her, sharing her look of amusement as they waited for the whistle to ring out.

---

With a near-silent pop, Sirus arrived at the doorway inside his ancestral home, the newest model of the Wireless tucked securely under his arm.

The magical radio was his means of tuning into the tournament's first task today, given to him by Ugnast after he had sent her a letter requesting it.

While he was still angry at the goblin for how she had coerced him into an unsavory decision, that did not mean he wanted to completely sever ties with someone who didn't immediately want him thrown back into prison. Potential allies were already hard to come by, and getting picky over who they were was a luxury he couldn't afford.

Plus, Ugnast managed his family's wealth, and it would be better if they were at least on decent terms with each other.

The goblin must have shared his sentiments as she sent a letter soon after with a portkey attached that would take him directly into her office, where he had just gone to pick it up.

"Does the traitor require assistance?" Kreacher asked as he arrived, a sneer growing on the house-elf's face once he caught sight of the device. "Oh, the mistress will not approve of this."

"Then, it's a good thing Lord Black does not need her approval," Sirius said, showcasing the ring on his finger before gesturing down the hallway. "Now, go. Resume your duties since I doubt you finished cleaning up the place…and remember not to touch anything in the Lord's office. I'll be going through that myself."

Kreacher scowled at him for a few seconds before snapping his fingers and disappearing instantly.

However, as he did, the curtains covering his mother's portrait snapped open, making Sirius let out a resigned sigh.

"Traitor! Filthy traitor! You bring shame upon the family!" Walburga shrieked once she caught sight of him standing in the entryway. "How dare you return here after everything you've done!"

There was an ugly expression on the face of the woman that birthed him. Her cheeks flushed with anger as she gazed upon him. A far cry from the immense pride she had displayed once he had returned from Gringotts, as she had been under the impression that he had murdered twelve muggles and betrayed James and Lily to the Dark Lord.

Sirius had quickly and heatedly dissuaded her from that belief before once again finding himself subject to her constant shrieking, which had grown more excessive once he informed her of his new position within the family and who was to be his heir.

"We've been over this, mother. I didn't expect to become Lord Black," Sirius muttered. "And believe me when I say I'd rather be anywhere else than here."

I wouldn't be staying here if it weren't for the other properties being in atrocious conditions. He thought, pinching the bridge of his nose as his mother continued to shout before heading down the hallway toward the study room.

Suddenly, the woman's constant screaming died down, making him stop and raise an eyebrow in her direction.

"And what is that contraption you are carrying?" she asked with a sneer, her gaze drawn to the object he was carrying.

"It's a Wireless…" he explained simply, sighing when she still showed signs of confusion. "A magical radio."

He wasn't remotely surprised when the woman's nostrils flared in fury once she heard the muggle term.

"How dare you bring that abomination into the family manor!"

"I do dare, and guess what? There is nothing you can do about it," Sirius said, smirking when his mother snarled.

"I can order Kreacher—"

"To do nothing. He is now under my command. Not yours."

Walburga eyed him severely for a few moments as her lips pursed tightly in anger.

"Bringing mudblood inventions into this household…What a disappointment you turned out to be."

"Yes, yes. You've told me that countless times before," Sirius told her, rolling his eyes at her before turning away. "Now, I've had enough of listening to your voice. I need to start setting this Wireless up. The first task is due to begin any moment now."

He made to step down a side hallway before his mother's voice once again stopped him.

"First task? The first task for what?""

"For the Triwizard Tournament. The Ministry decided to bring it back," Sirius said, earning a small widening of the eyes from his mother. "My godson…Harry…he was chosen as a champion."

Walburga looked at him in surprise before smoothing her features into something that lacked its usual harshness. Instead, there was a hint of interest in her gaze.

"That's quite the honor."

Sirius scoffed at his mother's words, earning a harsh glare from her.

"Honor? Yes, of course, because should everyone aspire to one day be bestowed the chance to die for the sake of other people's entertainment."

"It is. If the goblet has selected the boy to be selected as champion, then it is something he should take immense pride in," Walburga said, matching his tone before scoffing when he walked away without a word.

Stepping through the entry, he placed the Wireless onto the small coffee table in front of a fireplace before sitting on a lavish, black chair beside it. Turning the biggest knob, he shifted through the channels, stopping when the voice of an announcer filtered through the speaker.

"—evening wizards and witches from all over the world! The day had finally arrived! For the first time in over two hundred years, we will again have a Triwizard Tournament!"

Sirius glanced out the entry into the hallway and stared at the silent corridor for several moments, his face marred by indecision. Eventually, he slowly raised the volume to its maximum level, waiting for the inevitable shriek of anger to reach his ears.

Yet, none ever came, making him stare momentarily at the radio before shaking his head.

"—the sound of my whistle, our first champion will begin making their way toward the arena!"

---

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Again and again, Fleur chanted those words within her head.

While entirely unnecessary for her to remind herself to breathe, it served as a welcome distraction from the apprehension that threatened to devour her. She was unwilling to stop repeating those words for fear that she might stop in her tracks if she did.

She didn't think she could start walking forward again if she did.

In…out…in…out, Fleur continued to say within her mind, her eyes trained before her.

She did not allow them to deviate toward the towering fences on either side of her. Nor did her head turn upwards to gaze at the enormous stands that seemed to almost shake from the roars of excitement of the crowd.

Only the path ahead existed for her.

Eventually, the dense forest ended, leaving her standing in front of a set of stairs that led underneath the stands.

Bringing out her wand and gripping firmly, Fleur made her down cautiously, the raucous crowd above her growing more distant with every step she took.

A cave enveloped in near-total darkness greeted her once she arrived at the foot of the stairs, making her cast a wordless Lumos to give her some form of visibility. She ventured forward for several moments, traversing the rocking terrain carefully. Her pace slowed down further once she caught sight of the mouth of the cave, where sunlight and the thunderous noise of the crowd were once again beginning to filter through.

Fleur took a deep, anxious breath as she neared the opening before she stopped a few feet from it.

A few steps.

That was all she needed to take, and she would be in the arena.

Facing a dragon.

Her heart began to thud, wilding against her chest at that realization. She gripped her wand even harder, so tight that she wouldn't be surprised if she snapped it in half.

"Allez, Fleur…Allez…" she whispered to herself, biting the bottom of her lip as she tried to force her body forward despite her instincts screaming, roaring at her to turn back around.

Finally, one of her legs cooperated with her, inching forward, the other following soon after.

Seconds later, the French champion found herself having to blink rapidly to adjust to the sudden change in lighting, raucous cheers instantly erupting from the four stands surrounding the arena at her appearance.

"There she is! Our first champion! The beautiful Miss Fleur Delacour!"Bagman's voice boomed out from somewhere around her, followed rapidly by more cheering from the crowd.

Fleur paid little attention to the noise as she ventured deeper into the place, scanning the rocky, mountainous terrain in which she now found herself. It was a large area, close in size to that of a quidditch pitch, with rocks of different shapes and sizes covering large chunks of it. She could even see a few cliffs that rose above the ground.

At least I have a good amount of cover if I need it. I just need to stay close to it and away from any open spaces. She thought as her head swiveled from side to side, looking for any sign of the dragon as she walked further away from what seemed like the only opening in the enclosure. Which means it's also my exit once I get the egg.

Fleur steadily, cautiously made her way past several groups of boulders toward the center of the arena. A grimace crossed her face when she noticed that the surrounding boulders had begun to tower over her, obstructing her view and dampening the noise from the stands.

Where's the dragon?

The apprehension that had been pushed to the back of her mind once again clawed at her as she continued forward through the rough landscape. Her head darted around, wide eyes scanning in every direction for signs of movement, for any hint of noise near her.

However, none became known to Fleur, making her more nervous.

Eventually, the terrain began giving way to a more open area, and she stopped as she rounded a boulder.

Only a few meters in front of her was a large nest with the golden egg she was looking for right in the center of it. The outer layer seemed to gleam under the light, giving it an enticing appearance that beckoned her forward.

Ignoring the temptation to simply dash over and seize the egg, Fleur decided to stay in place.

"Where's the dragon?" she muttered as she looked around the area, narrowing when she noticed the single enormous chain strewn about the ground.

One end of it was driven into the ground near the nest, and her eyes followed the metal links that extended off to the side before wrapping itself back around.

Toward her.

As the realization of the impending danger dawned on her, Fleur's breath hitched, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Then, the chain shifted around violently.

Fleur barely managed to conjure up a weak shield to protect herself when a boulder beside her exploded in a shower of dust and rubble from an enormous tail crashing into it.

"Merde!" Fleur yelled out as her shield faded away, finding herself forced to duck under the appendage as it continued its path.

For a split second, she managed to see the silvery-blue form of the Short-Snout looming over her through the airborne rubble before having to roll hastily to the side when the tail rapidly came crashing down again.

Coughing as more dust and rubble flew into the air from the force of the physical attack, she forced her eyes to remain trained in front of her. She blindly fired a single reductor curse that no doubt did nothing, scrambling backward as the tail swung down from above again, throwing even more dust into the air.

With the need to buy herself some time, Fleur's mind raced. She swiftly twirled her wand in a spiral, conjuring a thick grey cloud of smoke that instantly merged with the dust. She scrambled backward before another snap of her wand, directed at a few rocks, transformed them into wolves.

"That's some quick thinking by Miss Delacour!"

Aggressive snarls echoed through the air as the wolves, under Fleur's orders, charged through the thick smoke toward the dragon. The beast responded with a piercing roar, unleashing a torrent of fire that instantly consumed most of the wolves. The dragon's powerful claws swiftly swatted away those that managed to evade the flames, their bodies flung into the distance.

While the lopsided battle raged on, Fleur didn't waste a second in using the precious moments afforded to her to get onto her feet before sending another wave of wolves towards the dragon.

Once again, the dragon's response was swift and brutal. In a single burst of her intense blue flames, she incinerated most of the wolves, destroying them almost instantly. However, the wolves were nothing more than a distraction, and Fleur didn't hesitate to enact her plan.

"Sonorus."

As the dragon looked around wildly in search of her, a pleasant and alluring hymn left her mouth. It began as a soft murmur, growing in volume with every passing second. Gold, wispy particles soon manifested themselves, floating lazily in the direction of the dragon who had stopped moving, a dazed expression crossing her face.

Fleur kept her eyes on the beast, ensuring her sleep-inducing spell had properly taken effect. Only after she was satisfied that it had did she walk forward toward the nest.

Eagerness started to well inside her once she passed the enormous form of the Short-Snout, growing as every step brought her closer to her objective. Arriving at the edge of the nest, Fleur crouched down lowly, still chanting the same spell as she reached over to grab the golden egg.

However, a short snarl from behind her stopped her in her tracks.

Thinking she had imagined it, she continued to reach for the egg before turning around slowly when the same noise repeated itself. A moment later, her eyes widened in shock once she saw the dragon shaking her head roughly.

"…How?" Fleur whispered disbelievingly before trying to force the beast under her spell again, to no avail.

Growls started to leave the dragon's mouth as she shook off the last remnants of drowsiness before turning sharply toward the French witch. She bared her fangs at her before a violent shriek erupted from her mouth once she noticed Fleur's proximity to her nest.

With speed that belied her size, she swung one of her forelimbs rapidly at the champion, who barely managed to conjure up a Protego to protect herself.

However, while the shield blocked the attack, the force behind the blow still sent Fleur careening into the air. A cry of pain left her mouth from the impact, followed by a choked gasp as she landed brutally on the rocky terrain.

Her body rolled uncontrollably for a few seconds before slowing down to a stop, a piercing scream leaving her as the sharp edges of a rock dug into her shoulder. Gasps of agonizing pain left her gritted teeth before she forced herself to roll onto her stomach.

Drops of blood splashed against a rock beneath her, letting her know that she was nursing a gash somewhere on her head.

"My...spell…It grabbed hold—" A mixture of saliva and blood was spat out of her mouth, letting her know she also had a cut somewhere inside. "It grabbed hold of her…I know it did."

Fleur tried to get herself back onto her feet, only to drop onto her knees when a stab of pain shot through her left shoulder when she planted the arm for support. She clutched at it for a quick moment, a shudder running through when she felt the warm liquid on the fabric of her robes before her eyes widened when the sound of rushing air reached her ears.

Out of instinct, she rolled to her left to avoid being enveloped by a huge stream of blue flames, screaming in pain again when her injured shoulder bumped against a stone. Another wave of fire again forced her to roll to the side. This time, she used the momentum to get up onto her feet before hobbling away as fast as possible, desperation openly displayed on her face as the fire nipped at her heels.

Weaving from side to side as rushing air rang out repeatedly from behind her, whimpers of agony left Fleur as her injured shoulder was jostled around roughly from the sharp, sudden movements she was forced to make to avoid being burnt to a crisp.

Fortunately, she reached a cluster of large boulders, taking cover behind the nearest one just as another stream of blue flames threatened to consume her. It crashed violently into the rock a split second later, casting a blue light over the area.

A roar of anger resonated around the arena as the Short-Snout realized she had taken cover before she sent more waves of fire at the champion.

One of those managed to singe the French witch's right arm when she attempted to switch to another, larger source of cover several meters away. She retreated before making a second effort while using a shield charm, only to stay put when her spell caved instantly under the flames.

Pressed against a boulder, an expression of fear adorned Fleur's face as the attacks grew in frequency and intensity.

Thank Merlin she seems reluctant to leave her nest. She thought, wiping a collection of blood and sweat above her eyebrow before closing her eyes, trying to muster up some sort of plan that would get her out of this situation.

"Miss Delacour seems to be in a bit of a bind!" Bagman's voice rang out.

"Obviously…" Fleur snarled in response to the man's words before shoving the throbbing pain coming from seemingly her entire body to the back of her mind. "First…I need to get out here."

The champion focused on the sound of the fire, counting the seconds between each wave.

One…two…three…one…two…three.

Fleur nodded to herself before breathing in deeply. Then, she pointed her wand at a small rock down at her feet before making it float in front of her.

As soon as she heard a pause, she pivoted away from her cover and launched the pebble toward the dragon with a banishing charm before waving her wand.

"Engorgio!"

Instantly, the rock began to swell rapidly, becoming the size of a carriage before hitting the dragon's jaw just as she had started to lurch forward again.

Stunned at the blow, the beast could do nothing but release the flames toward one of the stands.

Cries of fear rang out from those in attendance as the fire approached them before sighing in relief when no harm befell them as the flames simply crashed against a magical barrier.

"A glancing hit from the French champion! But not nearly enough to topple the beast!"

I wasn't trying to, Fleur voiced within her mind, conjuring more wolves. This time, she had the canines stay put before casting a disillusionment charm over herself as she ran away from the area.

Seconds later, a massive wave of intense blue fire clattered into the boulder she had just vacated. The flames were far larger than any before, and such was the force behind it that chunks of rock began to break away. The Short-Snout maintained the intensity of the flames, illuminating the arena in a mesmerizing blue glow.

Only when the boulder was reduced to rubble did the attack stop before a thunderous roar reverberated once the dragon realized the French Champion had not been there.

Hidden under her disillusionment charm, Fleur continued sprinting toward the arena's edges, paying little mind to the shouts of confusion ringing throughout the crowd once they noticed her disappearance.

Instead, she hurried her pace while keeping an eye on the beast, a smirk stretching across her face when the Short-Snout began to stalk toward the cluster of boulders as far as the chain would let her.

The smirk grew even further when the dragon let out a roar before destroying the wolves and everything in her path, unaware that her target had already vacated the area and had begun circling toward the nest.

Knowing she might not get a better chance, Fleur pushed herself to run faster through the rough terrain. Heavier, faster inhales and exhales left her mouth as she pushed her body further despite the aches and pains encompassing it. Never before had she physically exerted herself to such an extent, and she would surely feel it in the morning.

However, that didn't matter at the moment.

Right now, all that matters is grabbing the egg and getting the hell out of here! The champion yelled through her head, arriving at the large group of boulders that lay just before the nest.

Fleur spared a quick glance behind her to make sure the dragon remained occupied, grimacing when, far quicker than she would have liked, the beast realized her target was nowhere to be found. She turned her head back forward, desperation entering her eyes when the dragon let out a deafening shriek of anger.

Knowing that the small window of opportunity threatened to close, Fleur ignored her heavy legs and pushed herself even faster.

She arrived at the unprotected nest and, despite her injury, picked up the golden egg in her left arm in one swift motion, clutching it tightly against her chest before sprinting toward the cave she had entered from.

"Unbelievable! It appears Miss Delacour has managed to sneak toward the nest under what appears to be a disillusionment charm and now has the golden egg in her grasp!" Bagman yelled out while excited gasps sounded out from the stands as those in attendance quickly noticed the egg seemingly floating in the air.

Unfortunately, the noise from the crowd grabbed the Short-Snout's attention, making her turn her head around before letting out a piercing shriek when she noticed one of her eggs was being taken. The dragon reared her head back as if preparing to let loose a wave of flames before stopping, realizing that would only put her egg in danger. Having no other option, she got onto all fours and crawled rapidly toward the champion.

Stricken by fear at the sight of the large creature heading directly at her with the promise of a violent death clear in her silver eyes, Fleur once again resorted to transfiguring some nearby rubble into a pack of wolves. Not satisfied with just that, she blasted a boulder in front of her before changing the pieces into a flock of vultures.

Both animals quickly moved toward the dragon in an attempt to buy her a few seconds. Unsurprisingly, their numbers dwindled instantly as whatever restraint she had in using her fire seconds ago was not afforded to them.

However, while most of the wolves had perished, a good number of vultures had avoided it by soaring up into the air and were now flying around the dragon's head, trying to claw her eyes out.

Fleur looked away from the scene, focusing all her efforts on making it to safety, hastening her already fast pace when the ground under her feet began to shake violently.

The Short-Snout had probably already disposed of her creations and was likely closing the distance between them, but she dared not look back.

Instead, she focused on the cave that drew nearer and nearer with every breath she took.

Fifteen meters!

Ten meters!

Five meters!

Fleur could start to see the inner workings of the cave as she neared the edges of the arena, wild cheers erupting from the crowd as they sensed her imminent triumph.

Success was within her grasp, and a bloody smile threatened to make its way onto her face as anticipation began to bubble up inside her.

However, that feeling was wiped away instantly as a thunderous crash from behind had her stumble into a roll. It was fortunate that she did since not a moment later, claws swiped the space she had just occupied.

Holding the egg tight against her chest, Fleur quickly got back onto her feet, glancing at the enraged dragon before lunging to the side to avoid another swipe. Once again, she tried to conjure up more wolves but abandoned the idea when she had to dodge a large set of sharp teeth before frantically trying to cover the few remaining meters.

In a desperate attempt to buy herself some room, Fleur blindly threw whatever spells she could think of over her shoulder as she weaved randomly from side to side.

Distressed gasps left her lips whenever she felt the claws pass agonizingly close, only a hair's breadth away from carving into her.

When only a few feet remained between her and the cave, those gasps were soon replaced by a mighty yell as Fleur used whatever energy she had remaining to make one final push before leaping inside.

A mighty roar boomed out from behind her, and she instinctively knew that the Short-Snout had also made one final attempt to strike her down.

However, before the claws could reach her, they crashed against a translucent barrier, making her breathe a huge sigh of relief as she tumbled onto the ground.

"She's done it! Just in the nick of time, she's made it to the cave with the egg!" Bagman shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the cheers from the stands.

With the adrenaline that had sustained her fading away at those words, Fleur allowed herself to collapse onto her back. Despite being utterly exhausted, aching all over, and bleeding, an elated smile still made its way across her face.

"I did it."

---

Hermione released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding once Bagman's announcement reached her years.

Clapping along absentmindedly as cheers erupted from around her, she couldn't help but stare worriedly down at the arena, wincing when the Short-Snout roared in anger.

That's the type of beast Harry will be up against…she thought, closing her eyes as images of the horrible things that could happen flashed across her mind.

"Phew…that was close, wasn't it?" she heard Neville say from beside her, breaking her from her thoughts.

The shy boy had accepted the offer to join her in heading toward the constructed arena soon after Harry had departed with Professor McGonagall. She had also extended an invitation to Ginny, but the redhead had declined, more than likely still annoyed with her after the events that transpired during lunch.

Which was fine as the feeling was mutual.

"…too close," Hermione murmured after a moment. "Any slower, and the tournament would already be down a champion."

"Yeah, well…she managed in the end," Nevile said before attempting to give her a reassuring smile. "And, um…I'm sure Harry will, as well."

She glanced at him before letting out a soft sigh.

"That obvious, huh?"

"Very. It's kind of easy to spot when you're concerned about him…among other things," Neville said, coughing softly at the last bit. "To be honest, I'm also worried even if I don't know him as well, but I have faith he'll find a way to make it through the first task in one piece."

"Right…have faith," Hermione muttered to herself after contemplating his words before nodding slowly.

She turned her gaze back toward the arena just as the Common Welsh dragon was transported inside, frowning when Cedric Diggory was announced as the next participant.

That leaves only the Chinese Fireball and the Hungarian Horntail…I really hope it's not the latter. Hermione voiced within her head, biting her lip in concern before shaking her head softly. Have faith in Harry…have faith.

---

"Make sure you don't move while I mend the wound on your head," Madam Pomfrey said softly before running the tip of her wand along the top of your head.

Fleur tried not to show any discomfort as she felt the skin start mending itself back together before releasing a sigh once the healer stepped back with a satisfied look.

She had run into the healer the moment she had left the cave with her egg before being all but dragged into the medical tent to have her injuries tended to.

"Now, all that's left is the shoulder."

"How long will that take?"

"About thirty minutes. It might be more or less depending on how much of the tissue I need to repair…Why?"

"I had hoped to see how the rest of the champions fared against their dragons," she explained before glancing off to the side when a roar rang out of the arena.

Madam Pomfrey eyed her for a moment with a thoughtful look.

"Well, for starters, you won't be able to see whoever's in the arena right now. Perhaps not even the champion who follows right after."

"What about the fourth champion? Will I be able to see them?" Fleur asked, as she was far more interested in how Harry performed than the other two.

Some of that interest must have slipped into her voice as the healer eyed her curiously before eventually nodding.

"I suppose if I started right this instant, you might be able to," Madam Pomfrey said before giving her a firm look. "But know this: I am not letting you leave until I am certain your shoulder has healed properly.

"I understand…but please, do begin."

The healer stared at her momentarily, sighing once she saw the expectant look on her patient's face before beginning to mend Fleur's shoulder.

---

Nervousness. Fear. Anticipation. Resolve.

All these feelings swelled within Harry as he sat increasingly alone in the tent as his competitors departed. With each one that left, he would soon find himself subject to hearing the loud roars and piercing shrieks emanating a short distance away, the sounds amplifying his emotions to the point that they threatened to rob him of his composure.

Fleur's attempt to capture the egg had been the hardest to handle, and he had breathed an audible sigh of relief when Bagman announced that she had been successful.

Yet, that feeling had been short-lived as a myriad of emotions again enveloped him.

Eventually, moments after Viktor was summoned to the arena, a portion of the calmness he had displayed so far finally crumbled.

Once the tent flap closed behind the star quidditch player, Harry stood up and began to pace aggressively around the tent, unconsciously slipping his wand into his hand. Back and forth, he walked, his face tightening with every step he took until a severe scowl dominated his features.

Emotions began to boil over as a booming mixture of noise continuously erupted nearby, enveloping his senses and making his magic grow agitated.

In response to the magic stirring strongly within Harry, the furniture within the tent began shaking. Their movements, slow at first, became more intense as he found himself unable and unwilling to regain control. Soon enough, the beds, benches, and tables began to rise into the air, getting higher and higher until they pushed up against the fabric of the ceiling before suddenly crashing back down when a sharp whistle rang out.

Not glancing at the mess he had just caused, Harry left the tent without hesitation and quickly approached the arena before rapidly descending the stairs into the cavern below. In what seemed like an instant, he found himself standing at the mouth of the cave, glaring intensely at the mountainous terrain that awaited him.

"Last but not least, our fourth and youngest champion, Mister Harry Potter!" Bagman yelled out.

The man's announcement was met with a loud chorus of boos and jeers from the stands, nearly drowning out the smattering of cheers that existed.

Harry easily ignored the polarizing response he had garnered, his gaze set in front of him as he took one final deep breath before sprinting into the massive enclosure.

Barely a few steps into the enclosure, and just as he had anticipated, he was forced to lunge to the side as the spiked tail of the massive horned dragon smashed onto the ground beside him.

"Just as eager, aren't we?" Harry muttered as he turned around. He summoned the nearest boulder when he saw the tail rapidly sweeping toward him again.

"Depulso," He said once the large rock arrived in front, sending it to meet the tail head-on.

Unsurprisingly, the sheer force the appendage carried smashed the rock into pieces when they collided. However, it did manage to slow down the incoming attack enough that Harry could quickly begin casting another spell.

A new one had learned from the books his godfather had given him.

"Spicatas Vincula."

As soon as the incantation left his mouth, he jabbed his wand toward the incoming tail. Immediately, large metal chains adorned with multiple jagged spikes shot out of the ground before wrapping themselves around the target. Once they began to travel up along the scales, he made to jab his wand down, but an earsplitting roar made him pause before turning his head toward the beast.

"Ascendio!" Harry yelled swiftly as he pointed his wand upwards, the spell propelling him up into the air straightway, just in time to avoid the massive claws coming toward him.

He gasped as he flew into the air, feeling the beast's talons brush faintly against him before the forelimb continued its path and clattered into the ground.

"That was a close one! Mister Potter can count himself lucking that he escaped unscathed!"

"Sagittis!"

While in the air, Harry conjured up a multitude of arrows and fired them at the eyes of the dragon. As the beast raised one of her wings to block them, he summoned a rope before directing it to a nearby boulder and using it to pull himself down.

Barely avoiding a burst of flames, he cast a cushioning charm on the ground he was about to land on. The moment he landed, he rolled rapidly to the side, dodging another blast of fire.

Now, on the back foot, Harry weaved from side to side, each time nearly being struck by a wave of fire. Whenever he could, he looked behind him and fired more arrows at the dragon's head, intending to pierce her eyes.

On one of those occasions, his eyes widened as he saw the beast leap forward, covering a huge amount of ground to swipe at him.

"Ascendio!"

A growl left the Horntail's mouth once she saw him rise into the air again before flapping her wings to lift herself off the ground. However, her intention of joining him up in the sky was soon impeded as the chain wrapped around her neck forced her to remain within the confines of the arena. Snarling ferociously at being restrained, the dragon dropped back down with an earth-shattering thud before setting her sickly, yellow eyes upon him just as Harry reached the apex of his ascension.

The second he began to summon another rope, she let loose a huge stream of intense flames at it before sweeping the flames toward him.

"Protego!"

The blazing fire arrived a split second later, a surprised yelp leaving his mouth as he was shoved wildly off to the side when the flames collided against his shield charm.

With the wind rushing past his ears, Harry whipped around helplessly in the air as he fell back down to the ground, and only a perfectly timed cushioning charm saved him from crashing violently onto the rough terrain. Even still, his body bounced roughly a few times before coming to a rolling stop near a group of boulders close to the stands opposite the cave.

Blinking his eyes rapidly as pained gasps left his mouth, Harry tried to regain his bearings before forcing himself back onto his feet once a chain rattling intensely and vicious snarls nearby reached his ears. He stumbled forward a couple of feet, away from the stands behind him, before his eyes widened once he saw the Horntail stalking toward him in front.

The slight tilting of her head was all the warning he had before she launched an enormous wave of fire at him.

He lunged desperately to avoid the flames, but this time, he was too slow to avoid the attack completely as he felt the fire wash over his right side.

If it weren't for the enchantment on the robes, he would likely be nursing some severe burns.

I'll have to thank Salazar when I get the chance, Harry voiced within his mind as he dashed toward the nearest rock he could use as cover, changing course when another wave of flames shot past him.

This time, he made to head back toward the center of the arena in a bid to offer himself more space to maneuver, only to curse when the dragon leaped into his path, effectively cornering him.

A ferocious snarl left her lips when he stubbornly continued running in her direction before shrieking when he pointed his wand forward.

"Aguamenti!"

"Fulmen!"

A jet of water immediately covered the ground the beast was standing on, dousing her feet before a bolt of lightning impacted the liquid. A high-pitched shriek of pain left the dragon as the electricity shot through her, and she was forced into the air to escape it.

However, instead of simply moving to the side as Harry had anticipated, the Horntail used whatever leeway the chain wrapped around her neck had to get as high as she could before flying directly toward him while dragging her massive spiked tail along the ground.

Harry made to dodge, but huge walls of fire on either side of him forced him to stay put, and before he could convince himself to brave the flames, the dragon was already upon him.

Conjuring up the strongest shield he could, he only had a fraction of a second to brace himself before the spiked tail was driven into him.

Sheer agony enveloped his body as he found himself hammered down into the ground before being dragged brutally across the mountainous terrain. His eyes shut tight, and with his teeth grounded together, growls of pain escaped him as jagged edges of rocks dug deep into his body from all angles. Eventually, he lost the ability to maintain his shield, and a breathless gasp left him when the tail finally met its intended target, driving its spikes into his stomach.

After an eternity of being hauled across the arena, the dragon finally removed her tail from his body and ended her attack. Under the impression her foe had been slain, she released a triumphant roar as she returned to her starting point.

Wincing as her roar produced a pounding sensation to resonate within his head, Harry lay there motionless for several seconds, feeling like his nerves were on fire. Gradually, he opened his eyes, blinking slowly in confusion as his vision swam before bits of recognition began to enter them a moment later.

Gradually, his hand began to twitch, digging into the dirt beneath him before being shakily raised to his abdomen, where the tips of his fingers brushed past the torn fabric of his robes. A grimace crossed his face when he felt warm liquid beginning to flow out of the slashes running across his skin.

Eventually, Harry found the strength to lift himself off the rubble he lay on top of, absentmindedly noticing that Bagman had shouted something. He shifted onto his knees with his head dangling sluggishly for a second before lifting it up.

The moment he did, something warm and wet started flowing down the right side of his face, reaching his mouth where the metallic taste of it let him know it was blood.

His blood.

The last remnants of fog encompassing his mind were banished instantly, replaced by renewed clarity as he shakily stood back up onto his feet. Ignoring the pain that wracked his entire body at the moment, Harry began to hobble forward toward the dragon.

A furious roar left the Horntail's mouth at the sight of him heading toward her again. Once again, she rose into the air before flying at him, her tail gouging the terrain beneath her as she sought to repeat her earlier action.

However, this time, Harry didn't hesitate to dive through the large walls of fire she shot on either side, avoiding the tail as it rushed past him. Holding his breath as scorching flames enveloped his senses, exhaling roughly when he landed on the other side with only slight singes.

When he planted his feet, he pivoted back around to face the dragon with his wand raised, keen on using the brief moment the beast had required to reorient herself to cast a pair of spells.

"Aguamenti!"

"Ventus!"

Supplied with far more magic than was necessary, a large wave of water shot out of his wand and headed rapidly toward the dragon, who answered with a large wave of fire. An immense cloud of steam erupted when the two elements met before a strong gust of wind had it drift over to the Horntail.

A high-pitched shriek left her mouth as the vapor made contact with her scales, the pain noticeable enough to her that she resorted to flapping her wings to disperse the cloud. Another shrill sound left her mouth when it stubbornly remained in place.

"Spicatas Vincula!"

Having bought himself some time, Harry once again summoned the spiked metal chains from earlier, which quickly wrapped themselves around her spiked tail.

"Columna!"

As soon as they had covered the entirety of the appendage, he jabbed his wand down, twisting his wrist as he did so. In response, the portion of the chains that had remained in the ground rose, revealing themselves connected to a small black pillar.

"Annecto!" Harry yelled, watching the metal restraints grow taut just as the Horntail dispersed the steam.

Grimacing in pain when the spell forcefully took the amount of magic it was due, he found himself forced to scramble backward a second later to avoid the claws of an irate dragon.

She opened her mouth to fire another round of flames at him, stopping when he preemptively shot another large jet of water at her. Not keen on producing any more steam, she made to head towards him only to look behind in confusion when she found herself impeded.

Snarling once she saw the new chains that restrained her tail, she began to yank at it forcefully, giving Harry the opportunity to use the same spell to restrain one of her legs.

That earned a deafening roar from the Horntail as her tugging started to grow frenzied as she sought to free herself, even resorting to lifting herself into the air.

Harry's eyes widened when the pillars began to shift slightly from the constant movement, making him quickly begin working on the other leg. However, the constant movement of the dragon made grabbing the leg far more difficult, but after several attempts, the chains finally grabbed hold.

Clutching at his chest as the spell again took its due, Harry had to hastily scramble backward as the Horntail snapped her jaws at him as she toppled forward before stumbling onto his knees as the ground shook from her impact.

Well aware that he was close to nullifying her completely, he summoned more of the chains.

This time, they wrapped around her snout and closed her mouth with a snap, removing any chance she had at using her flames before binding them to the pillar that rose from the ground.

The spell again took the necessary magic harshly, and he couldn't help but drop to his knees, breathing raggedly as the repeated uses began to take a heavy toll on him.

Unfortunately for him, the dragon noticed that he had dropped his guard.

Using whatever force she could garner while on the ground, she took the chance to swipe at him and sent him crashing against a boulder off to the side.

A strained yell left Harry as his side collided against the unyielding stone before snarling in pain as he slumped down onto the ground. He slammed the palm of his hand against the terrain several times as the pain continued to throb intensely before willing himself to lean against the boulder he had just collided with.

Meeting the fierce glare of the Horntail with a severe look of his own, Harry breathed deeply for a moment before pointing his wand at the outstretched claws of the beast. Chains immediately enveloped and restrained the limb, with the other meeting the same fate moments later.

Utterly drained of any more magic and exhausted, Harry leaned his head back onto the boulder he was sitting against, eyeing the dragon impassively as she fought pitifully against the chains.

Eventually, she ceased her attempts at breaking free, instead deciding to simply stare at him with unbridled fury in her eyes.

Smirking lightly, Harry stood up gingerly, wincing as the right side protested against the movement before staggering over in the direction of the beast.

Stunned silence persisted throughout the stands as those in the crowd watched as he drew nearer to the dragon, holding their collective breaths.

"You're a real handful, you know that?" Harry muttered as he passed by the Horntail, patting one of her forelimbs weakly. A small, amused smile broke onto his face when she tried to bare her massive teeth at him before settling for a growl.

He slowly limped toward the nest in the center of the arena, nearly toppling over when he picked up the goal for the first task before continuing forward to the mouth of the cave.

On a whim, Harry decided to raise the golden egg into the air, showcasing it to the crowd before leaving the enclosure, a victorious smile spreading across his face when raucous cheers erupted from the arena seconds later.

---

A/N:

Harry's robes are based on the Legendary Armored Attire from the game, only without the chest piece and with more noticeable scales.

For Fleur's, it's based on Herodiana's attire just a darker shade of blue.

Until next time. Peace.