The minutes crawled by as Harry waited inside the champions' tent, his stomach twisting tighter with each passing second. The distant roars of the crowd, the sound of the other champions being called out, and the constant rush of adrenaline made it hard to sit still. His mind buzzed with thoughts of what was to come, and no amount of steadying breaths could calm his nerves.
Cedric had been called out first, disappearing through the flap of the tent, leaving the rest of them in silence. A moment later, Harry heard the cheers of the crowd, followed by the distant roars of a dragon. He couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine. Cedric was out there, facing one of the most dangerous creatures in the magical world—and soon, it would be his turn.
Viktor Krum was next. He left without a word, his face set in that same grim expression he always wore. The moments ticked by, and Harry's anxiety grew with each muffled roar he heard from the stadium outside. He tried to keep his focus, but his mind kept wandering, drifting back to the common room, to the people waiting for him on the other side of the task.
Ginny.
He hadn't expected her hug to stay with him like it had, but the warmth of her arms around him, the way she had whispered "good luck," had echoed in his mind all morning. He could still feel her presence—steady, reassuring—just like she had been since this whole nightmare with the tournament had begun. And now, as he sat waiting for his name to be called, all he could think about was seeing her face in the crowd, hoping he wouldn't let her down.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, Bagman re-entered the tent with a bright smile on his face. "Harry! You're up next!"
Harry's heart leapt into his throat, his pulse quickening. This was it. The moment he had been dreading for weeks.
Harry nodded, though his heart was racing. He barely heard Bagman's encouragement as he stepped out of the tent and into the sunlight. The crowd roared louder, the stands packed with students, professors, and Ministry officials, all waiting for him to face the dragon.
As he made his way to the center of the arena, Harry's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces. His heart leapt when he finally spotted them—Ron, Hermione, and Ginny—sitting together near the front. Hermione had her hands clasped in front of her face, looking worried, while Ron was staring at the arena with wide eyes.
And then there was Ginny, her face filled with a mix of anxiety and determination. When their eyes met, she gave him a small nod, her gaze steady, as if silently telling him,You've got this.
Harry swallowed hard, the pounding of his heart almost drowning out the sound of the dragon's roar. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. He had a plan.Accio Firebolt—that was the key.
The arena shook as the Horntail was brought into view, its massive wings unfurling as it landed heavily on the rocky ground. The dragon's eyes gleamed with a dangerous intelligence, and the sharp spines along its back bristled as it let out a terrifying screech, fire already curling from its nostrils.
Harry took a few steps back, keeping his eyes locked on the golden egg lying just beyond the dragon's reach. The task was simple: get the egg without being roasted alive. The problem was, there was nothing simple about facing a fully grown dragon.
With trembling hands, Harry raised his wand, his voice firm despite the fear swirling inside him. "Accio Firebolt!"
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a sudden rush of air, his broomstick shot toward him from the entrance to the stadium. It soared over the heads of the crowd, flying straight into Harry's outstretched hand. It was the fastest he'd ever summoned anything. He could do this.
The crowd cheered, and Harry's heart gave a small leap of hope. This was his chance.
He mounted the Firebolt and kicked off the ground, soaring into the air just as the Horntail let out a deafening roar. Harry could feel the heat of its breath even from a distance as he flew higher, circling the dragon, keeping himself just out of reach.
Below him, the Horntail snapped its jaws, its spiked tail lashing out with terrifying speed. Harry dodged the tail, pulling his broom into a steep dive, narrowly avoiding the dragon's fiery breath. The crowd gasped as the dragon's flames lit up the arena, but Harry kept his focus, moving swiftly through the air.
He glanced down at the golden egg, its gleaming surface taunting him from below. He had to get closer, but the Horntail wasn't giving him a chance.
The dragon's tail whipped toward him again, and Harry swerved, pulling up sharply and soaring high above the stands. He caught sight of Ron, Hermione, and Ginny again, their faces filled with both fear and awe as they watched him fly.
Harry clenched his jaw, determination flooding through him. He couldn't afford to hesitate. With a sharp turn, he dove toward the ground, speeding toward the egg with everything he had.
The Horntail roared again, its massive body twisting as it tried to follow him. But Harry was faster. He shot past the dragon, ducking under its tail, and swooped down toward the egg, reaching out with one hand as the crowd held its breath.
With a triumphant shout, Harry's fingers closed around the golden egg, and he pulled up just in time, narrowly avoiding another burst of fire from the Horntail. The crowd erupted into cheers as Harry shot into the air, the egg clutched tightly in his hand.
He had done it.
His heart raced with exhilaration as he circled the arena one last time, the roars of the crowd filling his ears. He caught sight of his friends again—Ron was cheering loudly, punching the air in victory, while Hermione had tears of relief in her eyes. Ginny was smiling, her expression filled with pride, and when Harry looked at her, a wave of warmth surged through him, stronger than anything he had felt during the task.
He had done it.
As he landed on the ground, breathless but triumphant, he couldn't help but glance at the crowd again, searching for that flash of red hair. Ginny was still watching him, her eyes bright, and Harry felt a strange sense of relief wash over him. But before he could go and celebrate with his friends Madam Pomfrey rushed over, checking him for injuries, but Harry barely registered her fussing.
His heart was still racing from the adrenaline of the task, but there was something else, too—a warmth that had nothing to do with dragons and everything to do with the people waiting for him when it was all over.
The first task was complete.
The Gryffindor common room was a swirl of red and gold, filled with cheers, laughter, and the buzz of excited voices. As soon as Harry had returned from the first task, the celebration had begun in earnest. The room was packed with students, all eager to congratulate him, their faces alight with admiration. Tables had been pushed aside to make space for the impromptu party, and a large banner reading"CONGRATS, HARRY!"was hanging over the fireplace.
"Harry! That was incredible!" Ron bellowed as he handed Harry a butterbeer. "I knew you'd do it!"
Hermione, standing beside him, was smiling widely, though she looked as if she'd been on the edge of tears for most of the task. "You were brilliant, Harry! Absolutely brilliant!"
Harry grinned, taking the butterbeer and sipping it, feeling a little lighter now that the task was behind him. The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, and the sense of relief was overwhelming. Around him, students were chattering excitedly, recounting his narrow escape from the Horntail's flames, his swift manoeuvring on the Firebolt, and the moment he had snatched the golden egg.
"Open the egg, Harry!" Seamus shouted from across the room, raising his butterbeer in excitement. "Let's see what the clue is!"
There was a chorus of agreement, and before Harry could even respond, the golden egg was being thrust into his hands. He glanced around, uncertain but curious, and then carefully undid the clasp that held it shut.
The egg opened with a loudscreech, a piercing, wailing sound that filled the room, making everyone cover their ears. The noise was unbearable, like a banshee's cry, and Harry quickly snapped it shut, the sound cutting off immediately.
"What wasthat?" Ron said, wincing as he rubbed his ears. "That can't be what the next task is, can it?"
"No idea," Harry muttered, frowning at the egg.
Before they could discuss it further, the portrait hole swung open, and in walked Professor McGonagall, her eyes sharp and her lips pressed into a thin line. The room instantly fell silent, every Gryffindor frozen under her stern gaze.
"What," she said, raising one eyebrow, "is all this noise?"
A few students shifted awkwardly, and Harry could see Fred and George trying—and failing—to hide bottles of firewhisky behind their backs.
McGonagall's expression softened, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I suppose a little celebration is in order," she said, her voice a bit gentler. "Mr. Potter, that was an impressive display today."
Harry flushed, unsure what to say, but before he could respond, McGonagall's eyes swept across the room once more. "However," she continued, her tone sharpening again, "this is still a school, and it's well past curfew. All of you need to put away the butterbeer—and especially the firewhisky," she added, giving Fred and George a pointed look, "and head to bed."
There were groans of protest, but McGonagall raised a hand, silencing them. "Now."
Students began to reluctantly gather their things, the excitement of the evening starting to wane. McGonagall turned back to Harry, her face softening once again.
"Mr. Potter, may I have a word?" she asked quietly.
Curious, Harry followed McGonagall to the side of the room, away from the others. Once they were out of earshot, she pulled something from her robes—a small, slightly worn photograph. She handed it to Harry with a rare, gentle smile.
"I thought you might like to see this," she said softly. "I found it in an old box in my office. It's from your parents' seventh year, after they won the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor."
Harry took the photo, his breath catching in his throat as he looked down at it. There, beaming up at him, were his parents. James had Lily wrapped in and embrace and he kissed her on the cheek gleefully. They were surrounded by James' jubilant teammates, who were holding the Quidditch Cup high in celebration. His father had the same messy hair and mischievous grin Harry had seen in so many pictures, and his mother's green eyes sparkled with happiness.
"They were quite the pair," McGonagall said fondly. "I figured I'd see a similar celebration here tonight, and I thought you might want to know that your parents had their moments of victory, too."
Harry smiled, but there was a bittersweet ache in his chest as he stared at the photo. He had always wondered what it would be like to celebrate something like this with them—to see his father's proud grin, to feel his mother's arms wrap around him in a hug.
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said quietly, his voice a little hoarse.
McGonagall nodded, giving him a kind look. "You did them proud today, Harry. Now, off to bed with you."
She patted him lightly on the shoulder and left the room. If harry wasn't mistaken, he thought he saw her wipe her eyes as she let the portrait hole close softly behind her.
Harry lingered for a moment, staring at the photograph. He could feel a heaviness settle in his chest—he was proud of what he'd done, but there was an undeniable sadness that tugged at him, a longing for something he could never have. He wished his parents could be here, to celebrate with him, to be part of his life.
A soft voice broke through his thoughts.
"Harry?"
He looked up to see Ginny standing by the fireplace, watching him with concern. She had seen the way his expression had changed, the happiness fading into something more somber.
"Are you alright?" she asked, stepping closer.
Harry pulled the photo out of his pocket, holding it out for Ginny to see. She took it carefully, her eyes widening as she looked down at the image of James and Lily.
"I can see where you get your smile from," Ginny said softly, "they look so happy."
"They were," Harry said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I just… I wish they could be here, y'know? I wish they could see this."
Ginny looked up at him, her brown eyes filled with understanding. "I know," she said softly. "But they'd be so proud of you, Harry".
They stood in silence for a moment. McGonagall had successfully dispersed all of the party and the common room was now very quiet and it was just the warmth of the fire casting a soft glow over them. Harry felt a strange sense of comfort, just having Ginny there, and for a brief moment, the ache in his chest eased.
Before he could say anything more, the flames in the fireplace flickered, turning a bright emerald green. Harry and Ginny stepped back as the familiar face of Sirius Black appeared in the fire, his sharp eyes immediately searching the room.
"Harry!" Sirius whispered, his face breaking into a wide grin. "Is it safe to talk? I just heard Mcgonagall send everyone off to bed, I've been listening for a little while".
"Yeah Sirius," Harry replied, "it's safe. It's just me and Ginny."
"Wow Harry, DRAGONS, and you lived to tell the tale! Well done!"
Harry grinned, his mood lifting at the sight of his godfather. "Yeah, it was close, but I made it."
Ginny stepped aside, giving Sirius a small smile. "I'll leave you two to talk. Fred's probably up to something stupid, so I should go yell at him before McGonagall catches him."
Sirius's eyes flicked between Harry and Ginny, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "So that's the witch you've been telling me about," he remarked casually, his voice tinged with amusement.
Harry felt his face grow warm, but he shrugged, trying to keep his voice steady. "She's been helping me with the tournament."
"Hmm," Sirius said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Well, you've got good taste. Much like your father."
They two continued to talk for a little while longer and Harry showed Sirius the photo McGonagall had just given him.
Sirius's expression softened. "You're brave, Harry. Just like your dad. But remember, it's not just about being brave; it's about being smart, too."
Harry nodded, the warmth of Sirius's praise filling him with a mixture of pride and responsibility. "I'll remember that," he said earnestly and soon after Sirius bade him goodnight.
Harry began to walk up the stairs towards the dorms, as he came up, Ginny was coming down in her nightrobe.
She stopped to talk to him, "Hey Harry. I was just about to come and see if you were ok."
Harry smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just finished talking with Sirius."
Ginny turned to Harry, her expression softening. "You were really brave tonight," she said quietly, stepping closer. "Facing dragons and everything… it's incredible."
Harry felt a rush of warmth at her words. "I couldn't have done it without your help," he admitted, looking into her eyes.
Then, in a moment that felt suspended in time, Ginny reached up and pressed a gentle kiss on Harry's cheek. "You really are amazing, Harry. Just remember that."
His mind spun as he processed the sudden rush of affection, warmth blooming in his chest. He could still feel the warmth of her lips lingering on his skin, and his heart raced at the implication of what had just happened.
"Uh… thanks, Ginny," he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.
She smiled, a mixture of mischief and sincerity, before glancing toward the door. "I should get going."
As she slipped back up to her dorm, Harry stood frozen for a moment, the reality of what just happened washing over him. His heart was still racing, and his mind was a whirlpool of thoughts. Ginny Weasley had kissed him, and the world around him felt suddenly brighter.
With a grin spreading across his face, he glanced at the empty doorway, already anticipating the next time he would see her.
