Part 16
A/N
Thank you again for your eternal patience. I had a lot of this chapter that I wasn't happy with. Finally decided just to push it out. Hope it doesn't disappoint too much. Your reminders of what I've got cooking in this unending threnody:
- We are back in school. Fourth year. Lots of new staff. Triwiz is coming.
- Sanjay Patil is the new potions professor. He is the cousin of Padma and Parvati and is tutoring Harry in parselmagic in order to repay the debt of the insults the girls delivered when Harry was outed as a parselmouth. Their own father is a speaker.
- Harry is still going out every Sunday to the HC (healers clinic). He has a mind healer (the totally made-up term I use is myalurgist. It seems to bug some folks. Sorry?) and he works in their potions lab, enhancing the healing potions with parselmagic.
- Most of the death eaters are in a world of hurt, if they're still alive. Sirius set Voldemort's magic on fire, and it causes all their dark marks to burn. The HC has a patented balm, sold through a pop-up venue manned by werewolves and elves, that is bankrupting the "imperiused" DE's who didn't unalive themselves.
- Sirius Black has custody of Harry, as Pettigrew was ousted early on (and unalived himself in Azkaban as he couldn't handle the burning). Dumbledore still tries to interfere in Harry's life regularly. Sirius takes great pleasure in working around him.
- Back in the beginning, I mucked about with the Potter family tree. James's parents were Fleamont (Flea) and Euphemia James (Phe); Flea's mother was Dorea Black. Fleamont was named after his grandmother's (his father's mother's) family who had died out. Fleamont had a sister and two brothers who all had children
~~scene~~
The table at the Malfoy estate was set with its usual opulence; the dishes only somewhat reflected the economy that had been forced upon the household.
"Thank you for inviting me to dine this evening, Lucius. It has been quite some time since we have met."
"Hmm," Lord Malfoy agreed. "I was surprised to hear from my son that you had left Hogwarts completely."
"Even if I have access to the balm, and Dumbledore couldn't get me that, I couldn't deal with the imbecile students. I was simply a doorstop there, and why bother? Aside from Draco, very few of the students at the school are worth my efforts as a tutor."
"The board went against my recommendations and refused to step in and block most of the new positions. Apparently, Minerva McGonagall put the new people in place while Dumbledore was on the continent. Idealogue that he is, at least the old bastard is sensible enough to see that British students should be taught by British experts. Instead, there are barbarians teaching half the classes."
The fact that there were few British adults who could hold the positions meant nothing.
"At least none of them are half-breeds, and that idiot, Hagrid, is removed from working with students," Severus replied.
The elves changed the course, and Lucius waited until they had popped out before beginning again.
"You are working now?" Lucius asked before cutting into his steak. It wasn't prime, but corners were being cut in all avenues of the Malfoy household, just to pay for the blasted balm.
"Mmm," Severus said as he sipped his wine. "I'm brewing for a private enterprise. They're providing me with a small stipend – enough to pay for the balm, but not much else – as well as research opportunities."
"You have a place to live?"
"My father's house. It actually forced me to address the pile. I grow my own herbs there now. One of the elves from Hogwarts decided she wanted to leave with me, as she was a Prince elf originally. It is not lavish, but it is not so dismal any longer. I took great delight in destroying all things muggle in the place."
"I would imagine. What is the business you're brewing for?"
"I'm making werewolf werewolf vaccine and healing potions for a clinic that supports muggleborn and creature blood."
"Terrible venue," Lucius sniffed. "I've tried to shut it down for years. Now my wife's cousin is a champion of the wretched place."
"Oh, don't tell me I owe my living to Black," Severus lamented.
The dinner continued, the old not-quite-friends exchanging information. Lucius didn't get the answers he was hoping to get from Snape. Then again, why should he? Snape was sneaky as any death eater – as a half blood in the pureblood club, he'd had to be. But now there was another potions master Lucius could… cajole into helping him. When was the first Hogsmeade weekend, anyway?
~~scene~~
The fall term sped by. Harry was busy with his classes, which had taken a turn for the positive, with the new teachers. Even the old teachers had a new life in them with the fresh faces around. And of course, he and Hermione were both studying muggle classes. They spent a lot of time studying together, since they were both taking a similar load, both in school and with muggle subjects.
Harry was drawing, every day, as he was taking lessons still, though only every other week. He often would draw with Luna, who liked to paint. Her painting supplies had gone missing her first year, but Dobby had retrieved them – no fewer than four times – her second year. Now, the house monitor had suspended the thieving bitches who kept bothering Harry's friend, and Luna had her paints to play with. She and Harry shared techniques and favorite subjects. They critiqued each other's work, and the camaraderie helped them both, though in an unspoken agreement, they never talked about their art to any of the others in their friend circle.
Harry didn't have to take any potions anymore. It was weird to him, being taller than a lot of the kids his age. But he felt good, all around. He exercised every day – flying with Ron or running or swimming or fencing with Neville, (who still kicked his butt), and he and Neville still meditated every day.
Still, somehow Harry managed to fit in parsel lessons twice a week and was really becoming quite enamored of the possibilities of fully embracing that craft.
His days were just jammed full, and so they flew by.
When Sirius pulled him from the castle on Sundays, he went either to Dr. Fiona (as he now called her) or to his drawing tutor.
He was getting better. He liked talking to Dr. Fiona now, but he felt like he didn't need her quite as much as he had. He wasn't nearly so angry, and he was too busy to dwell on anger anyhow. And as she had recommended the art as therapy, the tutoring sessions were just another form of mental welfare enhancement for Harry.
Of course, he still went to the lab at the HC, weekly, to work with Master Fezziwig and do his parsel spells on the medicines Crispin and Snape brewed.
Fezziwig was still manic, and he kept Harry going with praise and challenge in brewing. Snape was still a caustic ass, but he mostly left Harry alone, or gave (shockingly) helpful advice to the apprentice brewer.
It all was going so well. Harry was a bit nervous in anticipating the Triwizard tournament, but Sirius had convinced his ward there was no way Harry could be commandeered into the thing. And it all continued, until the last weekend of October.
~~scene~~
It was late in the afternoon that Sunday when Sirius delivered Harry back to school from London. They had apparated to the gates and were walking to the castle. The visiting students had arrived that afternoon, and everyone was in the castle preparing for the evening meal. The grounds were deserted and seemingly desolate.
"The sun sets so early now," Harry shivered, feeling the cold of the Scottish Highlands. "It isn't even five o'clock, and it's practically dark."
"We are very far north," Sirius started to speak, but then he paled.
The cold wasn't a natural cold.
"Sirius?" Harry questioned when his godfather stopped, simply stopped walking. And then the man began to cower and shake.
"Sirius?" Harry was quite afraid now, and he pulled out his wand. The skies darkened perceptibly, and the cold became bone-chilling.
And then he heard his mother screaming.
"No, No!" Harry shivered, and his hand was clammy. The fetid, dark creatures began to descend, preparing to feast.
"You Will Not!" Harry screamed as the horde began to circle, glorying in the terror they caused; savoring the fear and desperation that would end when they ate the souls of the humans below them.
"expecto patronum." Harry's voice was weak. He tried. He tried to scream it. In his head he screamed it, picturing winning the quidditch cup. But his whisper was a sad thing, and his wand barely lit. Harry felt regret in his heart. He had spent almost no time practicing the patronus that term, as he was so busy. When he had practiced with Remus and the boggart, he'd only ever gotten mist.
Then, he looked at Sirius, mentally girded his loins and tried again.
"Ecpecto Patronum." The tone was firmer. The picture in his mind, of Hermione punching Malfoy in Harry's defense had a solid white mist forming.
But it still wasn't enough.
Harry knew, he had to do it. Third time's the charm, he thought to himself as the demons approached, full of anticipation and eager to temporarily sate their eternal hunger.
"EXPECTO! PATRONUM!" The words tore from his throat, all the stubborn determination that had kept him alive through all the trials and tribulations of his life coming together to stiffen Harry's spine and his wand arm. He pictured touring Britain with Sirius and the World Cup with Remus and Livia and his friends and flying and pinky swears with Hermione and all of the warm feelings being in a family brings, and a winged stag just erupted from the end of his wand.
The light was pure and blinding. The dementors screamed as the antlers of the stag ripped their cloaks and their demonic forms, chasing them in a righteous fury on wings of vengeance.
Sirius was breathing shakily, his pallor starting to recede in the peace and love that Harry's patronus delivered. He stood again, no longer cowering in fear and desolation, and watched the righteous smackdown Harry's patronus delivered to the dementors.
When all of the fiends had fled or been destroyed, Harry bowed to the sigil that had served him, then shakily lowered his wand arm, allowing his patronus to disappear into the ether. Harry's breathing was heavy, but his heart was light.
"That looked like Prongs," Sirius whispered. "Except for the wings."
"Well, if Dad's an angel, he prolly has wings," Harry was a little drunk on all the magic he'd just channeled. Then he passed out.
He woke in the infirmary, to the whispering of his friends.
"Quiet, or Panakos will evict us." Neville reprimanded Ron, who was asking Sirius for details about the attack.
"If he was going to evict you, he would have," the healer answered from behind the little group drily. The small crowd moved aside to let the healer approach his patient as Harry opened his eyes and smiled, seeing Luna, Neville, Hermione, Ron, and Sirius.
Not even seeing Dumbledore there could have ruined his good mood. But surprisingly, the meddlesome old codger was absent.
Of course, he was hosting the feast with the visiting schools and introducing the Goblet of Fire. None other could do that. And Sirius, as Harry's guardian, had denied Dumbledore access to his ward while Harry was unconscious. Sirius knew that Albus was the last person Harry ever wanted to see, let alone after fighting for his very soul.
"Hey guys. First time you've had to come see me here in a long time!" Harry's voice wasn't quite weak. He sounded as though he was waking from a long sleep, as opposed to the twenty minutes he'd been unconscious.
"Yeah, last time was that ruddy snake. Thought you'd given the place up," Ron added.
"Well, the beds are awfully comfortable," Harry answered as Panakos took his readings and nodded happily, receding to allow the friends to speak with his patient.
"Halloween luck came a day early this year, mate," Neville teased. They could laugh as both he and Sirius would be fine.
"Well, last Halloween wasn't horrible, except that's when Snape let the cat out of the bag about those muggles," Ron reasoned.
"I still think Dumbledore did it," Harry said. "I told you Snape apologized. It was that day he stopped being a git to me alone."
"But it took his magic being on fire for him to stop being a git to everyone," Luna added and the group, including Hermione, laughed.
"Oh, he's still a git. But he gets to wallow in his misery alone in the lab," Harry answered
"Well, good news: is if this was your Halloween adventure, you should be safe from the tournament." Hermione's addition was certainly welcome.
"Aside from his preternatural bad luck, he couldn't have been conscripted anyway," Sirius said with certainty. "Your headmaster's original ideas have been morphed in such a manner that Harry couldn't be entered."
"That's good," Neville said. "Because I think he used the last of his luck with that patronus."
"What was that thing anyway?" Ron asked. "I mean, lions with wings, I've heard of. But deer?"
"It's called a Peryton," Sirius said.
"Wait. I've heard that," Harry paused and Hermione's brow furrowed. She'd never heard of a Peryton, and she read a great deal more than Harry did. "That's the Potter family mascot. I didn't know what it was."
"It's a winged stag," Luna stated. "They went extinct, it's thought, a few centuries ago. Muggles know about them from an Argentinian muggleborn. He took a number of magical references and made a 'fictional' book called the Book of Imaginary Beings. My father has one of the few illustrated copies."
"Could you make me a copy?" Hermione asked.
"Of course!" Luna answered, smiling at her friend. Their discussion turned to magical animals and Harry settled against the pillows, tired, but only in body, not in spirit. Soon, the friends were shooed away, confident in the knowledge that Harry was okay, so that the healer could speak with his patient.
~~scene~~
Harry was released from the hospital wing that evening, on his promise that he would return to his dorm directly and sleep through the evening.
The next morning, Hermione regaled him with the activities of the previous day that he'd missed.
"The other schools seemed to really enjoy the fact that we made welcoming committees. Madame Maxime was particularly chuffed that so many tried to speak French to her students."
Harry opened the door to the common room and let Hermione exit before following her. "I'm kind of glad I missed it, though. So many people look at me as a celebrity for no good reason. The PotterSpotters would have raised a fuss in some way, I bet."
Hermione tilted her head in acknowledgment. "Possibly. But whatever the case, the visitors are extremely interested in the quidditch tourney. Of course, everyone wants to be on Viktor Krum's team."
"Why? I'd rather lose against him than be on a team where he simply dominates."
"Well, you're in the minority. Most want to shine in reflected glory."
They got to the great hall and saw that the normal house tables had been replaced by many smaller, round tables. Following the ideas of the proposed quidditch tourney, the great hall had been remodeled to accommodate groups of eight. The new seating required mixing of schools at lunch and dinner, but fast could be broken with only your school mates, if you wished.
No one wanted to force anyone to be sociable before their morning choice of caffeine, be it tea or café.
"Oh, I wish it was always like this!" Hermione enthused as she looked around, seeing Ravenclaws eating with Slytherins and some Hufflepuffs chatting with visiting French students.
"We could petition McGonagall," Harry said.
"Professor McGonagall," Hermione corrected, nodding. "She's usually a diehard traditionalist. But if we had house tables at dinner but these at the other meals? She might allow it."
Dumbledore never would, Harry knew, but Dumbledore's star was waning. Everyone could see it, and Harry couldn't be happier.
"So, what's with the big cup on fire up there?" Harry asked as he prepared his plate.
Hermione scrunched her nose. "Oh, that's the Goblet of Fire. It's the adjudicator for who will represent each school. Apparently, it was created in 473 for the very first tournament – well before Hogwarts was one of the three participants."
Harry nodded, not really caring about the history. "How did those two warriors get stuck with guard duty?" There were two goblin warriors guarding the artifact. They checked the paper of any student who approached and nodded or pointed spears, either allowing entry of the paper or scaring the crap out of a pretender.
"Goblins have magic that allow them to see a person's identity, or something. It's not at all clear, but they can tell when someone is not on the up and up. They've been given free rein to punish anyone who tries to enter someone else and to block anyone who's not old enough to enter from doing so."
"Huh," Harry mused while buttering his toast. He watched a seventh year Ravenclaw approach, present his paper, wait, with obvious nerves, for a nod, then drop the same paper into the cup. "I bet Siri's behind this. I'll have to thank him on the mirror tonight."
The day passed in high energy and anticipation. Throughout the day, those not in class would loiter in the Great Hall, watching to see who was brave enough to face the gauntlet of a goblin guard and enter their name.
It could be argued that if a student bottled it in the face well-meaning guards, they didn't have the stones to actually compete.
As dinner hour ended, Dumbledore once again stood at the front of the room.
"The time has come," he bellowed melodramatically, "for the goblet to choose. Before it does, I would like to thank the warriors of the goblin nation for ensuring the safety of our youth."
Harry knew it was a load of bilge. Dumbledore hated giving authority to others. But it was a good speech. The headmaster inclined his head to the two goblins and they each slammed their chest with a closed fist before stepping away from the incandescent cup.
Dumbledore approached the goblet in a slow, stately manner and tapped his wand to the brim. The flames changed from blue to orange, and a scrap of parchment was ejected, singed on its edges.
"The Goblet of Fire has chosen the first participant in the 1994-95 Triwizard Tournament. The representative for Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons is Mlle. Fleur Delacour!"
The applause was polite and not-quite-genuine from the many of the French contingent who had wished it was their name that had been read. The champion herself provided a valorous and calm façade as she moved to the competitor's circle.
Dumbledore shook her hand, bowing slightly to Madame Maxime and her student before turning back to the goblet. He tapped his wand again. Another parchment flew out, this time with more speed. If a scrap of paper could be described as "moving with purpose," this parchment had done just that. "From the Durmstrang Institute, the representative is Viktor Krum!"
There was a united front of cheering from almost the entirety of the room. Krum had a reputation of being stern but fair, holding himself – not aloof, but never taking advantage of his well-earned fame. He stood with purpose and strode to the champion circle, shaking the hands of his headmaster and Dumbledore, and bowing slightly to Fleur Delacour and her headmistress.
The room fell completely silent for the last drawing. Though the foreign students had not much interest in which Hogwarts student competed, all of the Hogwarts students did.
With a whoosh of orange flame, the goblet produced one last scrap of parchment.
"For the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the representative is… Cedric Diggory!"
The room burst into loud cheers and applause. The popular Hufflepuff seeker was a genuine nice guy: an intelligent, upstanding prefect who helped when he could and never took advantage if he could help it.
The goblet grumbled slightly as its flames went back to blue, then dimmed, dimmed, dimmed…. and finally extinguished.
Headmaster Dumbledore smiled slightly as he faced the gathering of students and teachers. "And with this we open the competition officially. Good luck to our competitors! May the odds be ever in your favor!"
The cheers were loud and long. None was louder than those of Harry Potter, who seemingly celebrated all three entrants with equal enthusiasm.
Only his closest friends knew that he was cheering the start of a spectacle that had absolutely nothing to do with him. Of course, after the foreign schools had confirmation of Potter Luck, in the appearance of a horde of demons chasing the kid who actually fought them off!, even the competitors were quite glad that Harry wasn't part of the tournament.
His luck would probably have all of them fighting a manticore, and only Harry coming out of it alive.
"You know," Susan Bones said to her friend Hannah as the Puffs made their way back to the set, "Maybe Potter isn't so bad, if he's cheering on a Puff."
Cedric heard the younger girl and decided to set the record straight. "He saved my life in a quidditch game, ladies. He's not the supervillain you have imagined."
"You never know," Hannah's jaw firmed, unwilling to give the Snake Boy of Gryffindor an inch.
~~scene~~
The weeks between the champion selection and the first task fairly flew. The new quidditch teams were put together, and since Krum wouldn't be participating (as a champion, he didn't have time), the team selections were quite competitive. Flying practice was watched with eagle eyes by scouts who wanted to make a roster and had no idea of the strengths and weaknesses of students from other schools.
The other clubs were well established and flourishing, with at least one selection occurring each night, giving the visiting students preference for participation, if they wished.
And the entirety of the home school, fourth year and up, were set to show their guests the magical village of Hogsmeade. The Village itself had spruced for the occasion, and several tents were set with wares from traveling vendors, some offering the comforts of home to the visitors.
As so many of the students were set to visit the village, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall required that a full half of Hogwarts Staff should also be in place in the village, in case of trouble.
So it was that Master Sanjay Patil was investigating the village and its shops, keeping a weather eye out for students and trouble.
His eye was not aimed for self-protection, though, and that was a bit of a shame.
Lucius Malfoy, having been informed by his son that Hogsmeade weekend was going to be ruined by an infestation of all and sundry decided to see if he could catch the new potions master unaware. Malfoy quickly cast a stupefy at the man and levitated the insensate brewer into a secluded alley.
Dosing Patil with a babbling potion – only a 15-minute dose, so it would not show up on any tests even an hour later – and hitting the man with a truthfulness compulsion and a compliance charm, Lucius woke the potions master.
"Master Patil, good morning."
"Good morning! It is a wonderful morning! The air is crisp and clean. Coming from home, where it is always so humid and hot – we all are very good at personal environmental charms, you know – I thought that the cold would bother me inordinately. But I actually find it rather…"
"Yes," Lucius interrupted. "I have a challenge for you. I want you to analyze this and tell me what the components are." Lucius handed the potions master a precious vial of the balm.
"Oh, I can tell by the glow that this has been blessed by a speaker. Parsel, you know, gives iridescence to any healing potion. Yes, yes, there it is," Sanjay muttered as he ran his wand through a battery of tests on the orange-colored brew. "A strengthening spell in parsel. It seems to be at its base an analgesic, a pain killer, but it also is spelled to block some other connection or magic. Oh, look, the brewer increased the potency through the use of venom. Smart. Is that basilisk? I believe it is. I've only encountered basilisk venom once. It is very rare you know. They aren't a natural beast, and most governments believe that the inherent risk of the thing is not worth the benefit in the medical world. Of course, if they could only see what basilisk venom …" the man continued to babble as Lucius put it together.
"Potter," Malfoy reasoned. "The venom is from basilisk of the chamber, and he's a snake speaker. He's providing the balm."
"Likely," the potion master agreed. "The boy is a strong parselmouth. And quite a good brewer. Only the Granger girl and your son are on his level, and he has more of an instinctive feel for potions. The former professor…" Sanjay kept speaking, unaware and uncaring that Malfoy was not listening.
Shaking his head, Malfoy was at a loss. He couldn't get to Potter. He could try, but even if he could, it was likely Black had the boy tagged, and Black could access Malfoy wards. It was a condition of Lucius and Narcissa's marriage contract. "Where can I get another blasted snake speaker?"
Lucius had forgotten potion master still under his charms and spells. "I am a snake speaker, as is my cousin. In our homeland, it is quite an honor to be such, and the talent is considered…"
That broke through. Beginning to form a plan in his mind, Lucius once again stupefied the potions master, canceled his compulsions and performed a minor obliviate. Patil would remember walking in the village, walking down the alley to make sure no students had lost their way down there, and returning to the main thoroughfare. Lucius went on his way, plotting, planning, and figuring the odds.
~~scene~~
Harry laid in his bed, tired, but not quite ready to sleep. Before he meditated that Saturday evening, he reflected on his time in the village. He'd accompanied a group of witches and wizards from the other schools, the five of them thinking about forming a quidditch team and speaking about their own strengths and weaknesses and how to fulfill the rules for the teams. They had to have their teams chosen by Wednesday, and they needed two more younger students to fulfill the requirements.
Harry had a good time showing the other students the places in the village. Though he hadn't been allowed to attend with the other students the previous year, Sirius had taken the time to show him around and give him pointers. By the end of the afternoon, they had solidified their team lineup (with a pair of third year Slytherins as beaters. They'd wanted to play this year, and practically begged for the chance. That they would have inside info on just how Harry played was a totally Slytherin reason to want to play.)
He'd filled the afternoon with some work and a workout, but he was still a bit at an end and decided to read some of his family journals to end his day. Halloween and its horrid anniversary had passed. He felt like he should take some time to honor his family.
His grandfather's journal had been the one that had mentioned the Peryton as the manifestation of the Potter family and its magic. He had been toying at making an official sigil incorporating the beast. Of course, they were blocked from the sacred 28 due to their lack of blood prejudice, but the Potters had been around for as long as the Blacks.
Harry was reading Fleamont's thoughts on these things when abruptly the handwriting changed. The strokes were darker, jerkier, as though some terrible emotion was ripping at the writer.
"The evening star and the morning star have set. Mother named them with Black convention and her own fascination with Syrian mages, Ar and Az. Arsu and Azizos. Morning star and evening star. Their light forever dimmed. They were having a birthday party, we couldn't attend as Euphemia is so very ill with the pox, and I… I do not know how I shall go on. After the loss of Iolanthe's family in that fire. And now this.
"My sister. My brothers. Their children. Their grandchildren. All fallen to the dark. The dark that is claiming us all. I only hope that James can carry on the name.
"Curses on them all."
It was the last entry in his grandfather's journal. He had died of dragon pox not two days later. Harry now knew he hadn't fought the illness, his spirit broken by this massacre.
Harry was left with a cold case, a mystery. Who wiped out whole Potter family? Why?
~~scene~~
"Welcome students, staff, and guests to the first of three tasks of the Triwizard Tournament." Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Sports and Games and former player for the Wimbourne Wasps, let his enhanced voice rang out through the quidditch stadium which was filled to the rafters. Broadcasting was being sent out over the wizarding wireless. Bagman continued to open the activities. "I am Ludo Bagman, and I have the privilege of being the announcer for the official tasks of the 1994-95 TriWizard Tournament! Our judges today are: Representing Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons is Headmistress Olympe Maxime." Polite applause rang through the stadium as the half-giantess stood and waved. "Representing Durmstrang Academy is Headmaster Igor Karkaroff." The cheering was a bit more muted for the reformed death eater, but he stood and bowed shortly, his expression stern. "Representing the hosting British Ministry of Magic is the Department Head of International Cooperation: Dirk Cresswell." The newly important muggleborn stood and nodded with congeniality to the cheering crowd. "And of course, the one and only Albus Dumbledore, represents Hogwarts School." The aged headmaster stood and accepted his accolades. "The first task for our competitors is to get past these nesting mother dragons." The crowd gasped in shock. "Each competitor face a dragon who is guarding a nest full of eggs. One of the eggs, however, is a plant. It has been manufactured by goblin magic and contains a clue needed to proceed to the second task. Competitors," Ludo addressed the three competitors directly. "Please note that purposefully injuring your dragon or the eggs will break the contract and could result in the removal of your magic." The crowd hushed at such a possibility. Maiming, death – they were expected. Being squibbed? That wasn't something anyone was willing to risk.
"Numbers were drawn and our first competitor will be Cedric Diggory!"
Diggory stepped out to the tunes played by the small band and the obfuscation charm over the circle was lifted.
The blue flame burst from the nostril of the Swedish Short-Snout as it curled protectively around the nest below it.
Diggory took a deep, shuddering breath at the actuality of the dragon, then stiffened his spine, and wielded his wand. The competitors had all been told that they would face a dragon, but not the details. He was ready for this. After a few moments, a large transfigured dog ran at the dragon. The dragon eventually was pulled from its guarding position by the antics of the configured canine. Cedric rushed to the nest, pulling out the golden egg, and tried to rush back to safety, but was caught before he could make his escape. Some of the blue flame caught him in the side of the face, and he fell, screaming to the ground.
The dragon was calmed by the handlers, the nest and the dragon escorted from the stadium, and Diggory taken to the healing tent.
As the judges conferred over the score, the crowd lamented and whispered and generally broadcast nerves.
By the time Diggory's score – an impressive 32/40 (he lost points for his injury), the boy himself stepped out of the tent and was able to wave to the crowd, smiling though half his face was covered in healing balm.
The crowd roared in approval, no voice louder than that of Mrs. Diggory, who was so relieved to see her son would recover.
The second competitor was Fleur Delacour, who, using her Veela magic, charmed the dragon into an entranced sleep. She had just recovered the egg when the dragon snored and set her uniform on fire, to the hilarity of the crowd. But when she stepped out of the circle wards, egg held aloft in victory, the crowd cheered her performance.
Her scores combined to put her in first place, with 36 points.
Finally, Viktor Krum stepped forward. The obfuscation ward was lifted and a Hungarian Horntail eyed the young man greedily – almost hungrily – as it sat atop the nest.
Krum raised an eyebrow, then his wand and cast silently.
Seconds later, his Firebolt came screaming to him. Casting a few other spells – one was certainly a disillusion spell, as he disappeared, and another was the combination ovis oppugno, as several small sheep – known preferred foodstuf of dragons – appeared at the side of the circle. The sheep at first charged at the dragon, then, en masse, acted as sheep should and ran away, drawing the dragon to them.
Krum took advantage of the momentary motion, obviously, as the golden egg disappeared from the nest. Moments later, when the dragon had grumpily returned, now hungry, to guard the nest, Krum appeared at the edge of the circle, broom in one hand, golden egg held aloft.
The crowd practically screamed with his triumph. And the boy himself actually grinned.
The perfect score of 40 was met with approval by all.
And the first task of the Tri Wizard was done.
~~scene~~
Charlie Weasley checked over the grumbling dragons with a fine-tooth comb.
"Thank you all for doing that. I hope it wasn't too much of a chore to pretend to be ladies."
The three dragons – each of them actually a male – bore a look that translated to a grin. They had the task of pretending to be mother dragons to a nest of fake eggs. No dragon handler would put actual dragon babies at risk for a stupid game.
"I got a good nap out of it," the Welsh Green admitted.
"It was actually rather fun, nipping at that juvenile human," the Short-snout stated.
"But I have hunger, taunted by those sheep," the Horntail Grumbled.
"You'll be fed," Charlie assured the Horntail. "Your reward is this: in the forest there are countless acromantula."
All three dragons looked sharp with interest.
"It's an infestation that needs to be brought under control. I know you all like them – they're a tasty treat you rarely get to indulge. But don't eat too many. They'll make you sick. I have some sheep here – real ones this time, Horatio – and you should have some just to make sure you don't get sick. You're here for two more weeks. Pace yourselves!"
The dragons agreed readily and moved into the forest – which had temporary wards around it to keep humans and other dragon fodder – out of the kill zone. There were dragon handlers placed around the area, and the dragons themselves were locked down when they went into their digestive torpor.
To Hagrid's dismay, the dragons indulged in roasted spiders for the next fortnight. The acromantula colony was whittled down to a manageable number, the dragons were rewarded for their thespian abilities, and the first task of the tournament passed with no terrible surprises.