Colours of Obsession

by Plastic Dreams

A story of how the meeting of three colours finally manages to bring together an unknown romance between an obsessed, in-denial Daphne Greengrass and an equally obsessed, and less in-denial, Harry Potter. (GOF!Haphne, SmarterStronger!Harry) !SliceOfLife

14. Perfect Preparation 2

Colours of Obsession

A story of how the meeting of three colours finally manages to bring together an unknown romance between an obsessed, in-denial Daphne Greengrass and an equally obsessed, and less in-denial, Harry Potter.

*O*O*O*

"Something bad is 'bout to happen to me.

I don't know it, but I feel it coming."

*O*O*O*

A/N:

Hello everyone! I forgot to add a small credit to the last chapter.

In the previous chapter, the quote used by Daphne (Le sang de mon sang. Je te bénis) was taken from the amazingly underrated book series 'The Blackthorn Key' by Kevin Sands.

Since I split the chapter into two, I completely forgot that my old A/N crediting it was left at the bottom of this second part chapter instead, so that's entirely my fault.

I highly recommend reading the series. The writing is incredible and touching, and the characters are amazingly smart, witty, and funny.

Another thing I borrowed was the location of Spintwitches from the recent video game. I think that's about it for credits though! That's all. Thanks!

*O*O*O*

It was shortly into lunch that Professor McGonagall called upon Harry. They were needed at the grounds, which were already prepped for the task.

"Good," Harry mumbled to himself, shoving his unfinished plate of food away from him. He didn't think he could stomach lunch with the way his innards were twisting into knots.

He had been full of confidence last night, but things changed quickly as the seconds slipped by.

At the very least, he had gotten a good night's rest because of Daphne's efforts to help soothe his nerves. And it helped a lot. Likely more than they all realized. Harry felt refreshed and clear-minded, which explained why his sensible side was making him nervous now — keeping him on his toes, he hoped.

Before he left, Hermione gave his hand a supportive squeeze while Neville gave him a look of determination.

"You've got this, Harry," he said, and the rest of the table started to pour their support on after.

"Good luck, Potter!"

"Go get 'em!"

"Best of luck!"

Harry held his hand up, silently acknowledging their support as he was led away by his Head of House. He felt all eyes on him as he departed the hall.

As he walked, his hand slipped into his pocket for the fifth time of the day, checking to make sure he hadn't forgotten to bring his Portkey along.

Thankfully it was still there, wrapped securely in the Binding Paper.

*O*O*O*

The trio of girls seated at the Slytherin table watched with the rest of the room as Harry was led out of the Great Hall.

Voices rose as soon as he was gone, as it would only be a matter of time before they headed out too.

"I wonder what they're going to be facing," said Astoria to the other girls.

Daphne responded with a half-hearted shrug. They hadn't told her about the dragons. If her sister knew, Harry would've had another Greengrass fretting over him — and he already had his hands full with just one of them.

"He's been training hard and preparing for anything," Daphne said, appearing as composed as ever. "We'll still be giving him our full support, right?"

"Right!" Astoria confirmed with a small salute and a big smile. "We need to get the seats closest to him!"

The little Slytherin made no mention of the large bet she had placed on Harry with the money she had pooled together with her group — lest she get an earful from her older sister for participating in unlicensed sports betting.

Best not to mention what she and her squadron of Slytherins planned to do with the winnings either!

"Speaking of 'full support', we'll be joined by some friends of ours," Tracey informed her before a snide look eclipsed Astoria's features.

"You two have other friends?" Despite their apparent popularity, the two seemed to spend an overwhelming amount of time in only the other's presence. "That's a first…"

"Hey!" Two disgruntled voices rang out in unison before Daphne cleared her throat, composed once more. "They're Harry's friends," she continued, a bit more firmly, "and now they're our friends too. So yes, we do have other friends—"

"Besides, with my company, what more could yer sister ask for?" Tracey said with her chest puffed.

She was pointedly ignored by Daphne.

" —and we'll be meeting them later," Daphne continued, undeterred by the narrowed glare Tracey was now giving her. "So please be on your best behaviour, Astoria."

"So they're Gryffindors then? Great! That'll be good practice for my friends!" chirped the tiny Slytherin before she peeked over Daphne's shoulder. "Oh! Here they are!"

The two girls snapped their heads to the side and were greeted with fourteen Slytherins, all neatly lined up beside them with friendly looks on their faces.

Daphne looked bemused at the display, while Tracey was grinning.

Where the Hell had they come from?

"Afternoon, Astoria. Ready whenever you are," said a rather pretty girl with a stylish bob cut. She looked at the two older girls and nodded her head respectfully. The rest of the students behind her copied her actions dutifully. Some of them must have been a part of Daphne's fan club because they were regarding their seniors with a bit of reverence.

"They're well-trained, aren't they?" remarked Tracey with a bit of wonder to Daphne, who looked worried.

"That's the concerning part."

"That's the fun part," Tracey corrected.

"Don't give her any ideas."

"Too late for that, I fear."

Astoria must not have heard them as she hopped out of her seat, rushing over to her group of friends. "Hey Soph! We'll be ready to go in a moment."

Tracey leaned over and whispered to Daphne. "Yer sister just got to Hogwarts. Why the Hell does she have more friends than us?"

As usual, Daphne didn't want to know the answer to that. She just shut her eyes and made a prayer for them all — which, she thought, was becoming increasingly common nowadays.

*O*O*O*

Professor McGonagall ushered Harry out of the castle and back towards the Forbidden Forest, where he'd snuck out to the last time. The distance felt much shorter now that it was day out and they were hurrying.

All the while, he could feel the nervous energy rolling off of his professor in waves. Though it affected him a little, he took some solace in knowing that it wasn't just his friends worried for him.

Harry brushed past a set of canvas flaps and entered a large tent that had been erected near the space where the dragon's cages had been. The interior was nice and warm, filled with a dozen or so people that Harry had gotten familiar with over the last month.

There were the other champions, the officials, as well as the ever-familiar thorn by his side, Rita Skeeter, and her loyal cameraman. The champions looked equally unnerved, all obviously aware of what was to come.

Cedric paced back and forth on the far side of the tent. When he noticed Harry's presence, he sent him an appreciative nod, thanking him once again for allowing him to prepare ahead of time.

Mr Bagman was the first to approach Harry, welcoming him into the tent.

He made a quick announcement about what to expect. Harry half-listened to Bagman, his attention divided by the growing buzz beyond the tent. He could hear the footsteps of hundreds of students outside, the faint chattering of the crowd as they began streaming in.

Harry wondered just how close to the front Daphne and the rest would get to be with all the students attending. Hopefully, he wouldn't be offering them all the best view to watch him get turned to ashes.

And then he heard the final part of the instruction.

'...collect the golden egg.'

The goal, now clearly defined, made Harry feel a bit more focused.

At least it wasn't something like 'slay a dragon'.

And then came the obstacle every champion already came to expect.

"Gather round! Gather round!" Bagman cried, lifting a silk pouch. "Ladies first!"

Each drew their dragon, and by the end of it, they knew what they were facing and the order in which they would be doing so. Cedric would be first, followed by Viktor, Fleur, and then Harry.

Everyone seemed to have been displeased at the results, no matter what they had gotten. But if he was being honest, Harry thought he had the worst luck of the draw as he stared helplessly at the miniature figure of the beast thrashing in his palm.

The Hungarian Horntail.

He thought about that night again and Harry felt a little dread seep into him, but he did his best not to show it.

All the champions sat back down without a word, each awaiting their turn on the chopping block as time seemed to tick by.

Then, abruptly, Harry felt a pang of fear. He just remembered the object in his pocket that was set to activate in the next twenty minutes. He had made the wrong assumption that they would all be competing at the same time today.

Quietly, Harry excused himself to a corner of the tent where he drew the curtains for a moment of privacy. The others must have thought he was panicking about the dragons, but he was just grateful that the tent was able to provide a place away from prying eyes, if not he wouldn't have been able to change the assigned time while it was still deactivated.

He quickly retrieved the inert object in his pocket, unpackaged and set it on the carpet, then used a bit of magic to push the assigned time he'd set earlier in the day back by nearly 50 minutes.

Hopefully, by then, it would be enough time for the three in front of him to finish up. It was a complete guess when his turn would be, so he thought it important to get his hands on a copy of the events schedule so that this wouldn't happen again.

Perhaps he could ask Dumbledore for one?

Harry returned to the main area of the tent and made a show of looking extra nervous to the rest. Given the circumstances, that wasn't very hard to do.

Fleur clucked her tongue at him, feeling rather sorry that a boy his age was forced into this position. Cedric was too busy pacing to notice, and Krum was… well, being extra 'Krummy' today.

As the minutes rolled by, he took a few more deep breaths and channelled good memories, hoping they would help quell the thumping in his chest. Memories of the Hogsmeade date and last night's cuddling immediately filled his head, and he thought about how relaxing it had been embracing Daphne.

'Je te bénis,' Daphne had said to him.

I bless you.

There was nothing to worry about. He had her blessings. He would make it through this. And the next, and the one after that. And then, after all that, he'd hopefully be spending half his summer with Daphne.

'Or else,' he thought, 'there'd be about a billion needles I'll need to be sticking into my eyeballs, ghost or not.'

Then there was a loud whistle from the outside, and Cedric was the first to go. He still looked rather green but made a move to the entrance regardless. There, Professor McGonagall patted down his pockets and limbs, making sure he was clear of any magical items.

There was nothing to worry about. He had her blessings. He would make it through this. And the next. And the one after that. And then, after all that, he'd hopefully be spending half his summer with Daphne.

"Good luck, Harry. See you on the other side, mate."

Harry wasn't quite so sure if Cedric had meant to word it so poorly, but still reciprocated words of encouragement back to him. The Hufflepuff parted the curtains and vanished with the roar of the crowd.

*O*O*O*

Around thirty minutes ago…

Since free seating was available, students could sit wherever and with whomever they wanted.

The stands were packed with hundreds and hundreds of students, but the Chimaeras had managed to gather themselves on the front row, along with over a dozen of Astoria's Slytherins surrounding them.

The group sat with Astoria on one end and Hermione on the other, with Daphne, Tracey and Neville packed between them. Surrounding Hermione and Neville from all other sides were the friendly First years, who were busy asking them all sorts of questions while waiting for the event to start.

It'd been initially overwhelming being suddenly introduced to Daphne's little sister and her clique, but Hermione had taken up the incredible task of trying to remember all their names while answering their bombardment of questions on behalf of both Gryffindors.

"...as a fellow Muggle-born, what do you think of the career opportunities available in the magical community after graduating?" asked one boy, "Are you worried about being prejudiced?"

It was not the sort of question Tracey was expecting anyone to ask, let alone to someone they met for the first time, but Hermione's enthusiasm must have really impressed them.

She seemed to ponder briefly before giving her lengthy answer.

"I believe that there'll be plenty of opportunities available based on your strengths. There's certainly no shortage of jobs in magical Britain," said Hermione with a finger held up. "What's most important, I think, is politely educating those unfamiliar with our presence and culture that we are equals, regardless of blood status! Places like the Ministry of Magic and other government positions would be excellent places to start. We could use more Muggle-born wizards and witches in these institutions—"

Tracey was snickering at the level of professionalism Hermione was conducting herself with. The Gryffindor seemed to be right at home. She looked and sounded like an important politician at a rally answering the crowd's burning questions.

She was impressed with the young Slytherins too. Their behaviour was what many would classify as 'ideal' in students. They must have agreed with what Hermione was saying because a majority of them were listening with rapt focus.

But, not one to listen — even in classes, Tracey broke her attention away from the discussions and looked around.

To her other side, Astoria was on the edge of her seat, gripping the rails and staring off the edge of the stands into the arena.

It was a very large space with a dense wall of trees and fencing surrounding it to keep the champions and their obstacles in. Wherever the dragon was supposed to be, it certainly wasn't here yet as a number of wizards were hurrying about inside. They were placing the finishing touches by conjuring a volume of stones, rocks, and large boulders around the space to act as varying levels of scattered cover.

Near the middle, they had formed a small ring out of an outcrop. It resembled a bird's nest.

Two wizards were hovering over a half-dozen marble-coloured eggs, each about as large as their torso. The colours of the shells blended in almost seamlessly with the surface of the arena. Hermione had mentioned something about dragon eggs recently, though Tracey hadn't been paying too much attention at the time to recall exactly what she said.

Another brought in a sparkling golden one, with intricate designs carved into it, and gingerly placed it in the middle of the stack of eggs. Tracey hummed to herself as the objective of the task now became obvious.

So that's what they needed to do.

Meanwhile, Daphne's face was unreadable, her blue eyes glued to the large tent, poking through the canopy of trees and barely visible in the distance. But from the way she was viciously clutching at her wrists and the whiteness of her knuckles, Tracey could tell she was on edge. Best not to poke her for now.

She glanced behind her and found a familiar face settling into the seat behind Daphne, this time without a set of strange spectacles.

"Luna!" cried Tracey upon seeing her new friend, "Nice to see ya again after last time."

"Hello Tracey," Luna replied with that ever-present airy tone, but there were ghostly traces of a smile on her seemingly expressionless face.

"I hope ya didn't get caught."

"No, I managed to get away without issue."

The day the two had spent in Hogsmeade had involved Luna helping to create snowballs, while Tracey enchanted them to seek out and pelt anyone bearing badges with 'POTTER STINKS' on them. They didn't stop there either, as they had jinxed moving mounds of snow to seek out and subtly trip up their targets, adding to the chaos.

Tracey had been surprised at how quickly Luna had been to take on the role of her assistant. Whether it was because she didn't have many friends or because she had a knack for causing havoc like Tracey did — at the very least, the Ravenclaw seemed to have had a good time pelting their peers.

As the day drew to a close and they'd had their fill of fun, a Prefect caught sight of their mischief, forcing Luna and Tracey to scramble. They separated, blending into the crowd to avoid getting caught.

"Good! We should do it again sometime. Oh, there's someone ye should meet. I think the two of ya would get along well." Then she leaned back a little and tapped on Astoria's shoulder, the din of the crowd around them making it impossible to just call out to her.

Astoria leaned behind Daphne, close enough so that she could speak. "What's the matter, Tracey?"

"Astoria, this is my new friend, Luna Lovegood!"

"Oh! I've heard of you…" Luna's eyes seemed to dampen a bit at that, as if expecting the worst. But when Astoria reached a hand out to shake hers, greeting her with a great big smile, Luna seemed slightly surprised. "You sound like you're fun! Nice to meet you!"

It was a little hard trying to speak over the crowd, but the two managed to do so for a few minutes. Even with the years between them, the two seemed to strike it off well.

Luna was explaining Wrackspurts to Astoria when the sound of rattling chains came from the space below.

"Dragons!" Astoria cried. Daphne couldn't tell if it was one of excitement or terror.

The first of the four dragons was brought out from an opening in the fencing. Based on what Daphne and Hermione had shown Harry the other day in that book, Tracey thought it looked like a Swedish Short-Snout.

It plodded along wearily, guided by a number of wizards by chains to the centre of the massive stadium. Then it began glancing around at the murmuring crowd before noticing the makeshift rock nest and the defenseless eggs. It hurried over, and for a moment they all thought it was about to devour it hungrily. But it slid itself over them protectively instead, curling up and acting as a barrier between the eggs and any potential threats.

"Do you think that's Harry's?" Daphne asked Tracey a little urgently, "The Swedish Short-Snout isn't the most dangerous one. It'd be good if he could face it."

Tracey put a hand on Daphne's knee. "Relax, Daph. It's, like, one in four odds he ends up with the Hungarian Hungrytail." Daphne hadn't even bothered to correct Tracey. "Potter can't be that unlucky."

Astoria nodded along, squeezing her sister's hand in support too. "Plus, Harry's tougher and smarter than any dragon!"

While Daphne believed so too, that remained to be seen.

There was no time for further thoughts on the matter as an ear-piercing whistle sounded from above them.

Below, the crowd watched as the dragon stirred, now on guard thanks to the sharp sound.

Ludo Bagman's voice boomed from unseen speakers. "Introducing Cedric Diggory, the first of the Hogwarts Champions and representing House Hufflepuff!" In the distance, the flaps of the tent parted and out he came.

"Oh," sighed Daphne as she deflated visibly. Though no one was paying her any attention, she stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd as being one of the few who weren't actively cheering or, at the very least, clapping in support.

"C'mon, give him a cheer, will ya?" Tracey stifled a laugh at her disappointed reaction. "It might not be Harry, but he's still his friend."

With one more sigh, Daphne began to clap along with her peers — albeit very half-heartedly.

*O*O*O*

His eyes shut, Harry's focus was entirely on Bagman's commentary.

"Show us what you've got, Mr Diggory!"

Even though he wasn't sure of the layout of the arena, he had no issue picturing everything else in his head. He'd seen the model of the dragons, and could roughly estimate their sizes based on that book the girls had drilled into him.

And Ludo's words gave him enough to work with to paint the scenes out in his head.

"Ah, that won't do. Spells of that level won't be able to affect it at all." He saw Cedric whipping out his wand and sending an array of spells to the dragon, much to no avail. They just bounced off harmlessly.

Then there was a smattering of applause before Bagman spoke again. "What a distraction! And an excellent application of high-level Transfigurations, if I do say so myself."

Cedric had created something to take the attention off him and was likely trying to make his way past the guard and to the egg.

"Ooh! Here it comes! A narrow miss — very narrow indeed!" A small fireball barely missed him as he rushed it, perhaps. "But he'll also need to keep an eye on where he steps. That floor is a lot more unstable than it appears!"

Harry took note of that, making a note to scan the floor carefully before the dragon was upon him.

"Clever move! A shame it didn't pan out… Oh! That's got to hurt, but he's undeterred!" The dragon must have gotten Cedric with a swipe or perhaps grazed him with another fireball, inflicting some damage on him. But it seemed as though Cedric carried on with his objective regardless.

This continued for a while longer before the crowd exploded in a cheer, along with Bagman's congratulations and an unseen scoring from the judges.

Harry opened his eyes and found himself sweating as if he had been in the arena with Cedric and the dragon. He took his glasses off and wiped his brow, glad that Cedric had made it through.

Having listened to every word of Ludo's play-by-play commentary, Harry felt a bit more warmed up and confident. Perhaps he'd do the same for the next two champions too, so by his turn it would be as though he'd already faced down (and beat) three other dragons!

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part.

*O*O*O*

"That was intense," said Neville nervously to Hermione and Tracey. He was very thankful to be safe in the stands. Even the boost to his confidence in recent weeks meant nothing in the face of anything that breathed fire.

"It was." Hermione agreed shakily, "I thought he came a little too close to the fireballs."

Cedric's face had suffered a slight burn after a fireball had come a little too close to his head. The flame had grazed his forehead, hair, and eyebrows — thankfully only burning off mostly the latter, but had ultimately been negligible in stopping him from getting the egg.

There had been a few close calls for them with the dragon's fireballs too, as it had unwittingly spat a number of them into the crowd as it tried to ignite Cedric and his summoned hound. A portion of the audience had screamed and shirked away, nearly causing a small stampede. Their fears were ultimately unwarranted as they were saved by invisible shields that had been erected in advance. The fireballs exploded harmlessly before it came close to hitting the stands.

The tamers jumped in immediately after Cedric had claimed his egg, stopping the dragon from going on a rampage.

"Bloody exciting though, wasn't it?" Tracey had to admit that watching the event had made her adrenaline rush, much in the same way that riding a good broom dangerously fast did. She briefly entertained the idea of trying to run from a dragon while riding a broom, then realised how utterly insane that sounded.

Harry was the one who fought monsters in their group, not her. Best not to try her luck.

Meanwhile, Astoria was talking her sister's ear off with Cedric's performance. Daphne was staring at the arena, thoughts occupied as they cleared up the mess and replaced the dragon.

If Cedric's showcase was anything to go by, then Harry had roughly the same odds — if not better, as Harry had been training for some time now. Cedric had maintained a high level of Transfiguration for that dog distraction, but he hadn't actively made use of the terrain as Harry could.

Daphne finally glanced back at her sister, who was still prattling on about Cedric's performance. "—and did you see the way he kept on going after he got burnt? Oh, I hope he's alright. It'd be a shame if he ended up with a burn scar…"

Daphne briefly wondered if she ought to get Astoria one of Malfoy's badges claiming support for Cedric as a gift for Christmas.

"He'll be fine. Madam Pomfrey will fix him up quickly. But I wonder who'll be next."

Tracey leaned forward and looked down at the other end of the bench with a grin. "Hopefully Krum, eh Granger?"

The Gryffindor rolled her eyes. "I'm sure Viktor will be fine. I'm saving my energy for Harry."

Tracey leaned back into her seat, looking disappointed at her reaction. "You're no fun."

Shortly after that, Bagman's voice punctuated the air again.

"Introducing the next champion! Representing Durmstrang — why, it's none other than Bulgaria's best, Mr Viktor Krum!"

Before he was even done announcing Krum's entrance, Bagman's voice had been lost in the roar of the crowd. The stands shuddered as feet stomped, and most of the people in the front row had to cover their ears at the drastic rise in volume.

Tracey, though, found it especially funny to see that Hermione was sitting much straighter now, whooping and clapping in support even as her voice was lost in the sheer fanfare produced by the surrounding students.

So much for saving her energy.

*O*O*O*

Harry watched as Krum exited the tent, leaving just him and Fleur behind. She settled into the seat nearby and seemed to be anxiously waiting her turn.

He was still a little shy around the pretty foreigner. They hadn't really spoken all that much since their first introduction, where she had expressed interest in dating him. And being left alone with her reminded him of that rather awkward moment between them.

But if Fleur was the least bit bothered by what had transpired between them, she didn't show it.

Not one to wallow in silence, Harry spoke up a moment later.

"He's getting quite the warm entrance," he said loudly over the crowd. They were so loud the remaining champions could feel the tent vibrating with their collective excitement.

"Unzurprizing. But what matterz more iz, 'ow you say… good the type of people iz in the crowd?"

Harry took a second to decipher her meaning. "You mean the quality of people?"

"Ah, yez!" she clapped her hands, pleased that he had understood her. "Exactly that. A cheer from anyone iz nice, but a cheer from your chérie iz best, non?"

Fleur was aware of his secret so Harry didn't need to speak French to understand what chérie meant.

"It is," he agreed. "I feel like the luckiest person in the world to have her watching over me." He was no longer listening to Ludo's voice and the distant chanting of the crowd. Ordinarily, he'd have been more than ecstatic to even hear Victor Krum play, but he was far too focused on the topic of Daphne to even pay attention to his Quidditch idol now.

Now that they were on the topic of Daphne, Harry didn't want their conversation to end. Completely unprompted and driven mostly by excitement, he began to share more with Fleur.

"I think she might just be the best thing to have happened to me since discovering I had magic. I'd give up anything in the world for her, Fleur." He reached a grasping hand out to the air in front of him, as though he were reaching for an invisible Snitch. But just as he was about to catch it, he turned his hand over, palm up, and let it slip out of his fingers.

Fleur stared at him. "Anything?"

"No matter the cost."

"Even your magic?"

"Even my life."

The absolution in those green eyes made Fleur's eyes widen in surprise. Her heart even skipped a few beats at his intensity.

Never had she heard such an outright declaration of devotion, especially from someone as young as him.

His unconditional love for Daphne… his obsession… It was exhilarating to hear.

"Ahhh…! You two are indeed so lucky, 'Arry!" Fleur sighed dreamily before she dropped to a whisper so that the other adults couldn't hear them. "Did you know your girlfriend… she tellz me about you."

Harry already had an inkling that Daphne did talk about him to her friends. He knew how she felt about him, and it really wasn't his business sticking his nose in it, but his excited curiosity still got the better of him.

"You— She does?" He scratched the back of his neck, trying to look and sound as nonchalant as possible. "Er… what does she tell you?"

The gorgeous witch lit up the tent with her tinkling laughter at his poorly veiled interest before shrugging in a dramatically playful manner.

"What doez she not? Every time we speak, she muzt bring up your name. 'Arry this! 'Arry that!" Fleur placed a hand on her chest, looking just the slightest bit offended, "At firzt, I waz thinking she waz mocking me. But afterwardz, I tell myzelf 'Mon Dieu! (My God!) This girl! She is juzt oob-zezzed with 'im!' "

His eyes were glued to his fidgeting feet as he digested what Fleur said.

"...I'm plenty obsessed with her too." His heart was doing leaps in his chest, and Harry wasn't even trying to hide the burning scarlet that had spread across his face.

The idea that Daphne would prattle on and on about him to others was making him incredibly self-conscious but in a good way. A very good way.

And being told by someone else of just how much his partner loved him had imbued Harry with an even giddier sense of joy.

"Yez, that much is oob-viouz." Fleur regarded him with a great deal of admiration in her eyes at Daphne's behaviour. It was clear she wasn't the least bit offended that she hadn't caught Harry's interest. "I 'ave rarely met a couple who lovez az much az you two — and I should know! I am from the city of it!"

Harry didn't know quite what to say. While he was aware his relationship with Daphne was something special, hearing this level of praise from Fleur felt earth-shattering. It made him cherish what he shared with her even more.

"I am so jealouz." Though she wasn't upset, Fleur's hushed reflection on the matter was still distinctly bittersweet. Her Veela heritage must have muddied love for her in more ways than Harry could understand. "It muzt be so beautiful to be az loved az you two do each other."

After that, Harry fell into a quiet contemplation, his head swimming with thoughts about Daphne — even more than usual.

A while later Ludo's booming voice rang out, immediately accompanied by a surge of energy from the spectators.

"And there you have it folks! While a little messy at the end there, Mr Viktor Krum has done it! Can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, eh? Now, just what do the other judges think?"

"It seemz az though Mr Krum iz done." Fleur hummed as she stood, brushing her robes down even though she still looked as immaculate as ever. "I am hoping to see you two after thiz iz all over, 'Arry."

"Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me, Fleur. It means a lot to me to hear that from you." Through their conversation earlier he had grown less shy of her and had started to see Fleur as more of an older sister figure. "All the best."

He didn't just wish her the best for the task, or even the tournament. Harry sincerely hoped that Fleur Delacour could also experience a love as genuine and true as his own one day.

And it seemed as though Fleur perceived his feelings as her smile was radiant as sunlight.

"Merci, 'Arry." But while Professor McGonagall patted her down, Fleur's smile turned very dry. "You are exactly what she sayz you are… but you are alzo surprizingly naive. So be careful — for them."

He wasn't quite so sure what to make of the ending of her statement. But before he could ask, the whistle blew and she, like the others, took her leave.

*O*O*O*

A few minutes before…

Down below, wizards were cleaning up the splattered yolk and shattered shells caused by the Chinese Fireball's rampage after Krum had temporarily blinded it. A pair were air-lifting more eggs into the cleaned nest, making it as homely as ever for any draconic beasts.

"A terrible shame about those eggs. What a waste," said Luna from behind. She licked her lips, her eyes still in a daze. "I'm sure they would have been tasty."

Astoria looked excited at that idea. "Ooh! We should ask the Headmaster if we could have dragon egg omelettes!"

"Astoria, for the love of God…" Daphne seemed troubled at the idea of her sister pestering Dumbledore for such a ridiculous request. "Please do not even try."

As Daphne lectured her little sister on why she shouldn't, the judges had finished deliberating on the score for Viktor. They held the scorecards up for all to see.

"Argh!" the Slytherins around Hermione cried, throwing their hands up into the air but their disappointment was drowned out by the roaring crowd. The champion had scored an impressive 40 points, placing him firmly in the lead.

Hermione was just glad he hadn't been harmed… but, er… mostly because losing a member of her little book club would have been terrible!

Honestly! There weren't any other reasons! Especially not if they came from Tracey!

On the other hand, Krum seemed satisfied with his result and held a proud fist up to his supporters before leaving with his golden egg.

"Great. Now Krum's taken the bloody lead."

"Potter's gonna need to pull through and beat a high score."

"Impossible," came a hopeless, distant reply. "We're talking about Viktor Krum for God's sake."

"We're gonna lose everything…" another lamented quietly.

A frustrated accented voice snapped back. "The boss said we was goin' all in on Potter and we all agreed. So put yer faith where yer money and mouth are — and stop whingin' about it!"

"You all seem rather worked up. What's the matter?" Hermione finally asked one of the calmer Slytherins.

"We pooled a bit o' our group's money together fer the bets, y'see."

"And because everyone's underestimating Potter, and because he's good friends with the boss, we went all in on him," another voice along the bench helpfully added. "So there's a lot of money for us currently riding on him to win this task."

Hermione nodded, aware of just how much money there was to be made by placing bets on Harry. "When Harry wins, what will you use the money for?" Personally, she would have gotten a new shrinking trunk for her endlessly expanding collection of books.

A chubby blonde boy, Alistair, answered enthusiastically on behalf of the group. "Astoria's going to use the winnings to fund our project to try and create more secret tunnels around Hog—"

"Ah!"

"Shhh!"

"Tch!"

Nearly a dozen chiding voices cut him off, but it was too late. The two Gryffindors had definitely heard what had been shared. And while Tracey might have been conversing with Daphne and Astoria, her twitching ears —fine-tuned for eavesdropping over even the most hushed of gossip— had also picked up on the conversation.

"Oi! Don't go blabbing that fat mouth of yours," snapped a spindly boy with short brown hair as quietly as he could. His name was Stephen if Hermione recalled correctly.

"What? I thought they," Alistair gestured to Hermione and Neville, "were friends?"

"Good God, man. Are you daft? Astoria said not to tell anyone."

Not keen on getting involved, Neville took this as a sign to cover his ears and to focus his attention elsewhere.

"Including friends?"

Stephen palmed his face. "Are you stupid, or does the word 'anyone' not mean anything to you? Not even her sister's supposed to know the plan."

The pretty girl with the bob cut who had been sitting there quietly finally stepped into the conversation, grinding it to a halt. "Enough. You two have spoken more than necessary. Cease — now." Her hushed voice sounded like a dagger being unsheathed.

Threatening, and very dangerous.

Like puppies being reprimanded, Stephen and Alistair fell silent with their tails between their legs. It was immediately clear to Hermione who Astoria's right hand was in their group.

Sophie Duskwright (whom Astoria had introduced to the rest of Chimaeras as her best friend earlier) was clearly a very serious, stoic girl. Even though she was a first year, Sophie had a striking, no-nonsense intensity to her that bled through her conduct. She had all the makings of a future Prefect, and possibly even Head Girl. It made Hermione consider how she had even become their mischievous leader's best friend.

Hermione did notice how eerily identical the personalities and dynamics of the two young Slytherins were to Daphne and Tracey — only flipped around.

…now it was starting to make sense how the two could have become best friends.

"Our apologies, Hermione." Sophie turned back to Hermione, her eyes softening. There was only the barest hint of a smile on her face, almost as if it was done out of necessity to demonstrate a lack of hostility. "Please keep this between us."

"You won't have to worry about me." Though extremely challenging, Hermione acquiesced. She didn't want to keep secrets from her friends but if it would save Daphne from having a major headache, maybe it was for the best.

Besides, if Astoria went through with her plans, it could mean quicker and more efficient methods of navigating around the school!

Shortly after, the arena was cleared of the handlers and the whistle sounded again.

"And here comes France's finest! Representing Beauxbatons, the alluring Miss Fleur Delacour!"

The flaps of the tent were pushed apart and Fleur came strutting out. She performed a small curtsey to the crowd and threw her hair over her shoulder. The boys ate it up and cheered rapturously.

*O*O*O*

Fifteen minutes later...

Harry listened as Fleur's spell finally connected after what seemed to have been many failed attempts.

Based on Bagman's hushed words and the crowd falling quiet after, it might have been some sort of sleeping spell. And as Fleur supposedly crept past the dragon, Professor McGonagall made her own approach over to Harry.

"Seeing as how you are the only one left, I may as well inspect you now, Mr Potter." Harry stood and allowed himself to be searched. It didn't take her long to find it.

"And just what exactly is this?" asked Professor McGonagall, brow cocked as she held the wrapped Portkey up for him to see.

"It's a good luck charm, Professor," Harry explained without missing a beat, his eyes bouncing between the object and the woman's curious gaze. "From my…"

He stopped himself.

Shit. He shouldn't have said that.

"Your?"

"Myyyy…" Harry trailed off.

He struggled, eyes darting around the tent, searching for another word —any other— besides what was currently glued to his tongue.

"Your…?" prompted the professor once more, a little more forcefully.

"Girlfriend," he admitted a little too suddenly before he shut his eyes and sighed disappointedly. His brain had desperately refused any attempt to unacknowledge Daphne's existence as his partner. Even without revealing her identity, he found it impossible to lie about their relationship status. He was just that proud of it.

"You have a—?" The Professor looked quite shocked at this revelation before her face returned to one of motherly acceptance. She gave him a look that said 'I suppose you are at that age…' before she cleared her throat and continued, "…that matter isn't too important at this moment."

She inspected the object critically, unravelling the paper before staring at it again. Harry was silently praising Hermione for helping to make the Portkey inert. If not, Professor McGonagall would have found herself being sent on a sudden, one-way trip to the Clubhouse.

"Well, I don't see why you can't bring that in with you." She placed it back onto Harry's palm, before regarding him with all the worry a teacher had for any one of her dear students under her care. "I will still be expecting you in tomorrow's classes, Mr Potter… so please stay safe."

Harry got her message and thanked her with a grateful smile. And right on time too as Bagman's voice roared in the background.

"—and she's done it! A bit of fire won't be enough to put a dampen on this champion's charms!" Hearing that Fleur had also made it through the task just fine made Harry thankful. "Hopefully she's managed to charm the judges with her performance too!"

Knowing what came next, he marched over to the entrance and began bouncing on his heels to loosen himself up. Then he shut his eyes and pictured what awaited him beyond the flaps.

His stomach churned as the thought of the Hungarian Horntail's imposing figure flashed in his mind.

Yes, the dragon would be there, but so would Daphne and his friends.

Breathing out, Harry heard the whistle scream for the last time today and reopened his eyes.

"Introducing Hogwarts' second champion and representing Gryffindor… The one… The only… Haaaa—rry Potter!"

*O*O*O*

A minute ago...

Daphne's breath hitched as she saw the muzzled dragon they had dragged out to replace Fleur's.

It was the Hungarian Horntail. Arguably the worst possible dragon out of the bunch.

As dangerous as it was aggressive — between its fire breath and sharp teeth, the Horntail had no shortage of methods for dispatching prey.

She nearly palmed her forehead. Amidst all the action and excitement, she had forgotten all about its existence in the task.

It seemed as though she wasn't the only one who had forgotten as the others looked just as bothered.

"Isn't that the dragon we didn't want him to get?" Neville clutched his forehead, looking extremely sick at the sight. Hermione's foot drummed away in her seat while Tracey muttered to herself as she gnawed on her knuckle

"Unlucky…"

Even the Slytherins around them could tell just how much harder Harry would be having it than his peers based entirely on how much more menacing the Horntail looked compared to the other dragons they had seen today.

They all watched as the dragon's keepers wasted no time in departing back to safety after they unmuzzled the beast, leaving it chained over its nest.

It took in its surroundings before throwing a glance back at the many humans behind it with a single, slit eye. The crowd reeled back in fear as if gazing upon a basilisk. They, too, now understood a fraction of what the champions experienced having to stare down and face the dragons.

Seemingly satisfied at the attempt at intimidation, the Horntail snorted. Sparks escaped its nostrils alongside a strong gust of air. It folded its wings and settled itself over the nest of eggs protectively.

Moments later, the whistle sounded and Bagman introduced Harry to the task, who emerged out of the thicket of trees.

His wand drawn and held by his side, the teen approached the dragon at a slow, steady pace.

But the keener audience members noticed that most peculiar of all, Harry's attention wasn't on the dragon at all.

Instead, he was busy scanning them.

*O*O*O*

Ron sat a little straighter in his seat, his brows tightly knitted together and his mouth set in a firm line.

Harry had a fixed expression with a determined, yet cautious, gaze. But the fiddling fingers on his wand must have belied his true feelings.

Ron had begun to doubt his own claims about Harry over the last week. But as a developing teen going through the throes of puberty, Ron found it difficult to swallow his pride and outright apologise for a mistake.

Now, he felt it all dissolving away as his best friend appeared before the dragon. He looked like a little toy soldier next to it.

How could he have let petty jealousy cloud his judgment about his best friend?

As Harry stepped ever closer to the dragon, the pit that had been forming in Ron's gut grew deeper. It was the same feeling he got whenever he received one of his mother's unopened Howlers.

It was the unknown that made it scary, and Ron didn't know how Harry could possibly beat this thing.

And though he tried hard not to, Ron thought about the worst possible outcome.

If Harry died today, he would die thinking Ron hated him — their last interaction was a heated argument. It made him regret how he'd handled things… how he hadn't apologized when he could have.

When today's event was over, he knew he owed Harry a very sincere apology.

*O*O*O*

Ever since he'd been magically bested by Harry Potter outside of Potions, Draco had done his best to steer clear of him. He did his best on damage control when it came to his image, using his peers and that reporter witch to spread simple lies about Potter through the Prophet.

She was surprisingly open to it without even needing a bribe and hadn't even bothered to fact-check his unfounded claims.

A little concerning, but still in Draco's best interests.

It seemed as though everyone who heard the story of 'Bully Potter' knew that it was likely blown out of proportion, which was rather disappointing. It had dampened the fallout from his actions, saving his reputation.

But overall, things seemed unchanged for Potter, which was a shame. Tarnishing Potter's image while driving up the sales for his badges would have been a nice benefit.

So, in a final act of great spite, Draco had decided to put six months' worth of his allowance onto Viktor Krum. While it wouldn't be much of a return, Draco did it just to have the satisfaction of getting one up on his rival.

It was a steep price to pay, but Draco had full faith that Krum would sweep today's competition. And he had!

But now seeing Potter stare down the meanest dragon they'd seen today — or ever, really… even Draco felt an unfamiliar pang of sympathy by imagining himself in that position.

He quickly quashed it moments later, far more eager to see Potter get his dues. Watching him get turned to a crisp or swallowed whole would have made winning all the more satisfying!

Now that would've been something for his father to hear about.

*O*O*O*

Even as Harry came to a stop a respectful distance away, the Horntail watched him intently while maintaining its protective position over the eggs.

It was clearly intelligent as it seemed to recognise the tool he wielded as the same used by its captors. But seeing the space between them, it made no move to attack and leave its nest unprotected.

Daphne wondered what was going through Harry's mind.

Was he worried about its fire breath? Or perhaps the incredible reach it possessed with its lengthy neck?

No… it didn't even seem as if he was acknowledging the dragon.

It was a bit hard to tell given the distance, but it was as if his attention was glued elsewhere.

But to what?

It only took Daphne a heartbeat longer to realize just what it was, and when she did, she clutched her chest and bit her lower lip. Her heart felt like a flower in bloom.

He was looking for her.

*O*O*O*

Even with concern so heavily ingrained in her features, Daphne still managed to look utterly amazing.

It hadn't been too hard for him to pick her out from the sea of students. Harry liked to attribute it to his built-in 'Daphne Detector'. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that she was also conveniently parked in the front row with his friends.

It was comforting for Harry to see the rest of the Chimaeras and Astoria there. And it seemed as though the little Slytherin had brought along her friends he had met that day as well. They were all as close as they could be, right there with him just like they had all promised.

So it was with a great big exhale that Harry finally lowered his gaze.

Greeting him, in the flesh, was the Hungarian Horntail. And now that he had seen it, he found it impossible to look away from.

Dull spikes protruded from its upper back and numerous sun-bleached fangs sat exposed in the lipless mouth of its scaly, serpentine head. Like a bat, its massive wings doubled as its arms. A single, dark talon protruded out of the top of each, sharp enough to skewer any would-be prey. Between its curled frame, Harry could make out the slightest glint of gold.

So close, yet so far.

As he stared at it, he was suddenly taken with that same terror he'd experienced that night. He wondered if the other contestants had been struck with such a sensation.

Harry tried to lift a leg — to take the first step, but found his body stubbornly refusing. Joints locked and feet rooted to the ground like a great, unshakeable oak, Harry failed to move even an inch. Thankfully, the Horntail seemed content with the distance Harry had afforded it, choosing to watch him intently instead of just attacking him in his moment of fear.

As he experienced this deep sense of dread, Harry made sure to remind himself of all that his friends had managed to impart to him over the last week in their efforts to help him.

Hermione's practicality had shone through as she crammed as much information as she could about dragons into him. Neville had helped with training and taught Harry his breathing exercises, and Tracey— well, Tracey had kept his spirits up with her sharp humour and grim jokes — even if they were mostly at his expense.

And then there was Daphne…

What hadn't she done for him? She had been by his side, soothing as a balm, easing his nerves and quieting his fears. She was his anchor and hope, grounding him amid all the chaos.

He gathered these thoughts and condensed them down, using them to abate his unease.

Harry Potter would not be falling. Not today.

*O*O*O*

As if she had sensed Harry's initial terror, Astoria stood in her seat and took in a deep breath before she began to chant at the top of her lungs. Her lone, shrill voice pierced the air like a whistle.

"LET'S GO, HARRY!" She punctuated it with a rhythmic set of claps before repeating herself. "LET'S GO, HARRY!"

It took only a moment for her friends to realize what she was doing before they followed along. Before long, more and more voices joined the chant, until a majority of the crowd was involved. Not all of them may have liked Harry, but they could still get behind cheering for an underdog.

"LET'S GO, HARRY!"

*O*O*O*

Their voices reverberated through him, unified by Astoria's cheering. Harry felt his skin prickling while his hair stood on end as a wave of adrenaline rushed through his system.

Astoria really was going all-out, overdelivering on her promise to show him support. Now it was his turn to fulfill his end of his promise.

After his earlier inspection of the Horntail, he was fairly certain he'd be able to outmanoeuvre it on a broom. Thankfully, he had his Firebolt, as even with his skills every other model likely wouldn't have sufficed in trying to outfly a dragon.

Raising his wand up into the air, Harry prepared to summon his broom to him and take to the skies.

Just then, he spotted the metal collar and chain around the dragon's broad neck and hesitated.

The chain was anchored to the ground by a large railroad spike that looked like it had no right trying to hold back a beast of that magnitude. And it looked barely long enough that, even with the dragon resting there, it still seemed to be twenty or so meters shy of going taut.

Given his history with hostile magical creatures, Harry didn't trust that flimsy chain to hold it down one bit. It certainly wouldn't be enough for Harry to lure it away to the skies without snapping. And the last thing Harry wanted was for an enraged Horntail to start going after the rowdy crowd instead.

Now that would have certainly given Skeeter something to criticize him for.

While the combined magical might of Dumbledore, the other professors, and the dragon handlers might have been enough to curb a rampaging dragon, there wasn't a chance in the world that he'd risk endangering Daphne and his friends to try and find out. The thought of a torrent of fire being unleashed upon them terrified him more than anything — which said a lot given his remaining course of action.

Guess he'd be taking a page out of the other champions' books and going at it on foot.

*O*O*O*

Moody had just leaned his head back to knock down another sip of his drink when his magical eye swivelled in its socket, catching sight of Harry lowering his wand back down to his side.

The professor also lowered his flask as he stared in disbelief. "What the bloody—?"

It was clear the boy wasn't going to be taking his advice. Was he really trying to court death that much? Surely Potter knew his suggestion was the best option.

The scars on Moody's face twisted as he sneered. With a disgruntled growl, he quickly took the swig from his flask and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

Then, for all their sakes, he hoped the boy had another plan to keep himself alive and advance in the tournament. Because if Harry Potter died today via dragon, months of planning and a lot of hard work would be going up in smoke.

*O*O*O*

"What is he doing?!" Tracey hollered over to Daphne, her voice nearly drowned out by the chanting crowd around them. "I thought you said his plan was to try and fly?"

Fingers gripping her necklace tightly, Daphne shouted back. "I don't know!"

While Daphne trusted his decisions, she just hoped whatever Harry was improvising would work out.

*O*O*O*

Harry took a few more steps up to the Horntail before it finally held its head up.

Now it acknowledged him as a potential threat and gave him a warning to steer clear by producing a deep, guttural rumble from the depths of its gullet. The sound was so jarring most of the crowd returned back to a nervous muttering.

Harry recognised this defensive behaviour from their discussions. The Horntail wanted to preserve as much of its energy by scaring him off instead of resorting to any physical threats.

Good. That meant he could get the first hit in.

Seizing the opportunity presented, Harry's wand quickly carved the air, sending a few stinging hexes towards the Horntail's eyes. Centimetres off the mark, they bounced harmlessly off the dragon's cheek and snout, fizzling out of existence after.

"Ooh! Just shy of hitting an immediate bullseye!" Ludo announced to a groaning crowd.

Given the distance between them, it was already impressive that they even got close at all but Harry still grimaced seeing his only opportunity to land a clean hit go up in smoke.

The Horntail's slit eyes narrowed in fury as it began to rise to its haunches.

"Uh-oh! It didn't like that!" Harry braced himself and tensed his legs to run.

Well, he wanted the Horntail's full attention…

Now he certainly had it.

It reared its head back and released a roar so utterly deafening Harry felt his insides shake and shudder. It felt like the Horntail had stolen the crowd's energy and packed it all up —along with five Mrs Weasleys— into a Howler before sending it his way.

It was dead silent now after that terrifying display, but Harry didn't have time to be stunned.

"Run, Mr Potter!" he heard Bagman shout to him, "Run!"

For once, Harry agreed.

And so, he ran.

*O*O*O*

High up in one of the towers were a number of the professors of Hogwarts, who had gathered to watch the events.

Some amongst them, like Sybill Trelawney, were looking very pale and clammy at the events unfolding down below. Others, like Severus Snape —who was already pale and clammy— seemed more amused than scared.

Professor Sprout was the first amongst them to speak again after the silencing roar of the Horntail.

"Are you sure this is safe, Albus?" she asked, eyes glued to the arena.

"Oh yes, quite." Dumbledore nodded, "The same shields that protect the stands and the students are protecting this tower too. It will take quite a number of those earlier fireballs to even put a scratch on us."

"I meant for the champions," clarified the portly woman with a deadpan look.

While injuries were expected as part of the games, witnessing her own champion be harmed had left her feeling rather on edge. Now witnessing the chase down below, she was beginning to have serious doubts about the proposed safety of the remaining tasks.

Dumbledore's eyes darted between Pomona, then at the distant figure of Harry Potter scrambling off to the side, then back at her again.

"Ah… I believe… Harry has this under control." Dumbledore had to discreetly wipe the bead of sweat off his brow as he watched the Horntail trampling over the landscape to chase after Harry. "He's had a lot more experience in this sort of thing than you'd think, Pomona."

Professor Sprout had no choice but to take his word… even if the last part of his statement had been a rather concerning discovery to her.

Just what was the Headmaster putting this poor boy through?

*O*O*O*

The Horntail was in hot pursuit as Harry ran along the far wall of the arena.

While this might have left the nest exposed, there was no possibility to get to it without a suitable distraction. What he needed now was a plan, which wasn't easy to put together when the beast was practically breathing down his neck.

Harry did spare a thought about trying to send a signal to Fawkes for help. It made him wonder if it would be considered cheating if he had the phoenix's assistance against another overgrown reptile.

Trying to make a breakaway and gain a bit of breathing room, Harry cut between the many scattered boulders. This seemed to slow the dragon down by only a little based on the sounds of the rattling chain and heavy footsteps behind him.

The Horntail moved by stabbing its wings into the ground for support while its stumpy, muscled back legs propelled it forward at surprising speeds. It traversed less like a lizard, and more like an enraged ape — quite the terrifying sight. Nothing of this size and stature should have moved as quickly as it did but hailing from the forested, rocky hills of Hungary meant that this breed of dragon had adapted for chasing prey on the ground too.

And it would only be a matter of time before it caught up to him.

Coincidentally, it was at that moment that the sounds of the chase ceased abruptly.

Had it grown tired of chasing him and headed back to defend the nest? Even still, Harry didn't stop running. He did take a curious look over his shoulder just to check why it had stopped.

The Horntail was standing on its haunches, wings outspread in a threatening display of size. It had reared its head back, and a bright glow rose from the depths of its chest, barely illuminating the inside of its throat.

Oh. That's why.

"Gah!" Harry jabbed his wand towards the ground just as he threw himself off to the side.

Half a second later his ears were filled with Ludo's shouts and the whirring scream of a jet's turbines.

Then his world went dark.

*O*O*O*

The shrieking pillar of flame consumed the spot Harry had been just moments ago.

For spectators, they lost sight of the Gryffindor champion as the ground vanished completely under the sea of orange fire and smoke.

"My Lord, what an inferno!"

They could only watch helplessly in their seats, jaws dropping at the display of the literal firepower possessed by the Horntail, quite unlike any of the others seen today.

When it finally stopped, most of the crowd had turned to crickets. Many stood in their seats trying to get a good view of the charred dirt and steaming stone, which were all that was left in the wake of its destructive breath.

"A fiery first response from the Hungarian Horntail! Um… Surely… surely, Mr Potter is fine!" Bagman didn't sound like he believed his own words but was desperately trying to fill the silence that had engulfed the entire stadium.

Had they just watched Harry Potter die?

*O*O*O*

Ron was aghast.

A cold sweat had started to bead all over his clammy forehead, and he felt the strength leave his arms. His eyes were sunken and hollow as he tried to register the reality of the situation.

His best friend had just died, and he hadn't even been able to at least apologise to him.

*O*O*O*

Moody was clutching a fistful of his hair in frustration while he unleashed a string of vicious curses under his breath. The professor stomped off on his wooden peg leg, brusquely brushing past stunned students.

All that time and preparation — gone to waste!

Just what the Hell would he tell the Master now?!

*O*O*O*

Draco sat there, stunned that his longtime rival had died. He blinked repeatedly and even pinched himself, trying to see if this was all a dream.

If Potter had died just as he hoped… why wasn't he in the mood to celebrate?

Perhaps it was the fact that Potter would no longer be around for him to torment, or maybe Draco had developed a subconscious respect for Potter that his consciousness repudiated — but an event Draco thought he would have been revelling in had suddenly turned into a sobering reminder on their shared mortality.

He sat there quietly, feeling stupefied at the strange numbness that now permeated through his bones.

*O*O*O*

Daphne's first thought was that Harry must have managed to extract himself with his Portkey. But there hadn't been the usual telltale display of him whirling away into the sky.

Instead, he seemed to have just completely vanished into the fire.

Just… gone.

She sat frozen in place, her eyes wide with horror. It was her greatest fear, now come to life. At that moment, she was so overwhelmed with shock that she couldn't even react. Her senses had gone so numb that she didn't even register Astoria's tight grip on her forearm. Her little sister was utterly inconsolable as she wept next to her, and she wasn't the only student in the stadium crying.

Hermione had her hand clamped over her mouth, stifling the shocked sobs that threatened to break free. Neville had his clasped atop his head, his face frozen in utter disbelief, much like the rest of the spectators.

"No… No way…" she could barely even hear Tracey's voice, full of disbelief. It sounded so distant and uncharacteristically shaky. "H—He's probably just hidin' behind a rock or…" Daphne didn't trust herself to respond. She wasn't sure she even could, not with the thick lump that had formed in her throat. And what would she even say?

As she stared helplessly at the scorch mark left on the ground, she felt herself start to disassociate from her body.

The possibility that Harry was gone —truly gone— was too terrible to comprehend. Her mind reeled, and it felt like her world was collapsing in on itself. Her soul felt like it had been violently ripped right out of her chest and plunged deep into an icy abyss. Yet beneath that frozen shock, something else was stirring. Boiling. A righteous, fiery anger.

Why hadn't the handlers intervened? Why hadn't the professors —Dumbledore!?— done anything to stop this?

…How could they have taken him from her?

And now, there wasn't even a trace of him left. No remains, no scrap of clothing, nothing to mourn...

…

…wait.

Nothing?

Daphne sucked in a sharp breath as realisation dawned on her.

Dragon fire was intensely hot, yes— but not hot enough to vaporize bone. There had to have been something —anything— left of him. If there wasn't…

Then that could only mean…!

With her eyes sharpening up again, Daphne joined the crowd and stood in her seat. Her heart pounded, and despite the fear gnawing at the edges of her mind, a spark of hope flared within her.

Glued to the scorched spot, her mind reached a singular conclusion.

Harry was still alive. He had to be.

"Come on, Harry..."

Her eyes remained fixed on that scorched patch of earth.

"...I know you're still there."

*O*O*O*

Even if it was dark, cramped, and perhaps even a little toasty, Harry was once more glad he had put in all that effort into his Transfigurations.

Moments ago, just as he had leapt to the side, he had used his wand to transfigure the ground. However, instead of summoning a simple wall in a feeble attempt to protect himself, he had willed the earth to wrap him up and swallow him whole.

After seeing the intensity of its breath that night, this split-second decision had saved his life, whereas his Portkey wouldn't have. Sure, the fire would have ignited his Binding Paper and triggered his escape, but it wouldn't have stopped him from succumbing to the flames afterwards.

Now he was lying on his belly under a thick blanket of dirt over half a meter underground, completely unharmed. Thankfully, he'd buried himself deep enough. If it hadn't, he would have been baked alive, and his protective cover would have turned into a convenient grave instead.

He hadn't the slightest clue that everyone else had thought the worst of his little disappearing act — not that there was any time to dwell on that at the moment.

He could hear the faint sounds of the Horntail's footsteps above him. It echoed in the little pocket he was hidden in. It seemed to have been scanning the area for signs of him, unaware that they were separated only by a dozen inches of dirt.

Nervous, Harry started using Neville's technique to manage his breathing and calm himself down.

In the darkness, Harry held his wand up to his face and slowly shifted the earth around his head and shoulders. Bit by bit, he tunnelled his way forward and painstakingly leopard-crawled a few meters away from the Horntail's current position, making him feel like he was one of the many gnomes that infested the Weasley's property.

Navigating in the dark quietly, even with rock shards digging into his forearms and knees, Harry eventually got far enough that he could manipulate the earth above him without alerting the Horntail. He created an inclining slope for himself and slowly crawled up it before forming a small mound with a horizontal slit for him to peer out of. A thin beam of light bled into and illuminated the earthen cavity Harry had created.

On one end of the opening, he could see the curled talons of the Horntail's feet. On the other, he could see its unprotected nest.

The eggs blended in seamlessly with the rocks they were surrounded by, but the golden one sat atop the others like a jewel on a pedestal. Its golden glint was tantalizingly within reach.

But what could he do to get there? Digging would take quite a bit of time, and if the Horntail returned to its nest he would be back to square one.

An imaginary Hermione suddenly cut the silence. "Did you know most dragons lay eggs with shells that strongly resemble the stones used in their nests?" It was a snippet from her lecture. "It helps hide their eggs from any aerial hunters and scavengers!"

The info, while interesting, was ultimately useless. Harry sighed and cursed his dreadful memory.

As he lay there, racking his brain for a solution, another voice spoke up in a teasing tone. It was Daphne's this time. "That was useful. Come on and think, Harry. You're smarter than this."

Even if it was all in his head (and he really was just talking to himself), it still was nice hearing her voice.

"Can't you just tell me?" he asked, pushing his glasses up to his forehead to rub his eyes.

"That's not how this works," her cute laughter echoed in his head. "You were on the right track, so don't overcomplicate things." It sounded as if it was something obvious that was going over his head.

What was it?

"Break your task down," she instructed gently. Harry shut his eyes before going over his thoughts.

He needed to get to the golden egg, but the dragon was stopping him.

"Good. What options do you have to distract it?"

Harry scratched his chin in thought. He couldn't use himself as bait. That would defeat the purpose of it. And his spells wouldn't work well since he couldn't get to its eyes easily.

"Are you sure spells won't work?" she replied with a smirk, "What about Transfigurations?"

"I don't see how it'll help now," Harry mumbled to himself. He had focused his efforts mostly on manipulating inanimate materials, so creating a living creature like Cedric had as a distraction would be a little challenging.

"It saved you once already, hasn't it?" He pictured her gesturing to the space around him and he reopened his eyes. That was a fair point. It had bought him all this precious time to think safely too.

But what could he do with just his Transfigurations?

"Think about what the dragon wants."

He grumbled unhappily, "It wants to kill me, is what it wants."

"Don't pout, Harry. Your life is at stake here," she chided him endearingly.

He recalled the behaviour it had displayed since he started. The way it perched itself over the nest; the threatening rumble it had made to ward him off.

"The dragon wants to stop me because it wants to protect its eggs…" He trailed off before repeating what Hermione had mentioned, "...'eggs with shells that strongly resemble the stones used in their nests'…"

Moments later, with a sharp breath, it all fell into place for Harry.

"I've got it!" There was no response from Daphne anymore, but he could tell she would have been quite pleased that he had figured it out.

With a short jab of his wand, the earth loosened around Harry and he pushed himself up off the ground. He emerged from his shallow grave like a vengeful mole, chunks of earth sloughing off his form. A brief brush with his hand sent more pouring from his hair and attire.

Dusty, but very much alive and well, Harry Potter bravely stared down the surprised Hungarian Horntail with his wand at his side.

There was no fear anymore. It had been replaced entirely by his burning determination.

*O*O*O*

"Wait! What's this?!" Bagman screeched incredulously, "Harry Potter's—! He's still alive!"

To the students, Harry had risen from his shallow grave like a phoenix from the ashes, flooring them with his reintroduction into the task. The awe-inspiring image of Harry's resolute back was forever carved into their minds as he stood there — unwavering even in the face of the beast that had already nearly claimed his life once.

The energy in the arena had shifted rapidly from excitement, then to solemnity, and then back again. It was as if someone were cranking a dial back and forth between both ends. The stands shook with energy as the rest of the relieved students jumped up from their seats, cheering at his surprising return. This was especially true for the Chimaeras and their Slytherin friends.

"Oh God! He's okay, he's okay!" Neville was thankful as he cheered, and Hermione still had tears in her eyes as she joined him. "Come on, Harry!"

Her weeping now turned joyous, Astoria stood on top of her seat with a Gryffindor scarf in her hands, which she had seemingly materialised out of thin air. Completely unconcerned with the looks she was getting from the other students, she swung it to and fro overhead like a flag, babbling an endless barrage of supportive phrases at the top of her lungs.

"Ach! Ye had me bloody going there!" Tracey leaned dangerously over the railings and shook a fist at him, "Now get 'im in the eyes, Potter!"

As her shaky knees were no longer able to prop her up, Daphne crumpled back into her seat. Despite believing he was still alive, actually seeing him unharmed brought a big, trembling smile to her face. An incredible sense of desperate relief flooded into her as she let go of a heavy exhale, which hadn't even realised she had been holding.

It wasn't time to celebrate completely just yet. He still had yet to finish, and there was no shortage of things that could go wrong between now and then.

Still, she fought the overwhelming urge to jump the railing now and plant a long kiss on him after that nasty scare — and to sock him in the arm!

*O*O*O*

All that waiting before Harry's reappearance had made even Dumbledore a little anxious. He looked over to Pomona, who seemed just as relieved as him that Harry had emerged unscathed.

"I told you, Pomona. Harry has this completely under control." His attempt at persuasion seemed to do little to sway her opinions regarding the danger of the tasks.

Hm. Perhaps he ought to tune back some of the things he had planned for the next two tasks…

*O*O*O*

The tension was thick as they stared each other down.

The surprised Horntail was now on guard against the human that had just survived its deadly breath attack.

Likely a first for it, just as it was for Harry.

"A staring contest! Could this be the wariness between beast and wizard? Perhaps even a sign of respect?" he heard Bagman say, but the truth of the matter was that he couldn't just turn his back on the Horntail and run again. Harry required a bit of time to enact his plan and he doubted he would be allowed to pull off the same trick again.

The Horntail needed to make the first move this time — and Harry was waiting for a moment to capitalize on its mistakes.

The Horntail, tired of the waiting, proceeded to oblige Harry's unspoken request.

It lunged with its winged arms outstretched, snarling furiously as it reached for him. Stab after stab was thrown Harry's way, gouging out chunks of earth like an excavator and sending flecks of dirt everywhere. But even with the unstable floor, Harry remained unharmed as he focused on his movement. He took large steps back, bobbing and weaving himself out of the way of the massive, telegraphed strikes before the Horntail could even come close to landing any glancing blows. With each successful evasion, he grew more and more confident.

"I know of accomplished pugilists that would have baulked at the idea of dodging blows from a regular Hungarian — much less a Horntail!"

Perhaps it was Tracey's stupid jokes that had rubbed off on Harry, but he had to admit that comment made him crack a smile even with danger looming above him.

When the barrage of attacks faltered, Harry knew his window of opportunity had finally arrived. He swooped into the dragon's personal space, nimbly swung himself around the chain that hung from its neck, and dived under its lower half. He scrambled between its stumpy legs while the Horntail leaned down and reached for him with its long neck, sharp teeth snapping dangerously close to his heels. Fortunately, all it got was a mouthful of gravel.

Avoiding its sweeping tail, Harry rolled away and onto his back. He propped himself up slightly with one arm and aimed his wand between its legs and directly at the bit of chain still visible to him.

"Accio chain!"

The portion of chain around the Horntail's neck was yanked forth at such great speeds that its head was whipped hard into the ground. Just like Goyle when Harry had hit him with the Leg-Locker curse, the Horntail's chin bounced off the ground with a resounding crack. Dust scattered everywhere from the impact.

"A brilliant display of magic and math!" The crowd exploded into cheers again seeing the fight Harry put up against the dragon. "This is a friendly reminder not to skip out on understanding basic physics, students!" Everyone was on the edge of their seats now at the action. None of the other competitors had gone in for such a close-range tussle — and for good reason. But it was undeniably exhilarating just how intense this match was.

Brain still rattling about in its skull from the discombobulating impact, the Horntail howled as it thrashed wildly. Behind it, Harry was halfway through getting back up onto his feet when the upper portion of the Horntail's muscled, flailing tail came swinging like a baseball bat into his blindspot.

"Ghhk!" The force knocked the wind right out of him. The only sound he could afford was a choked gasp as it whipped him hard on the left, right across his ribs. The pain was sharper than anything he'd felt — even worse than the Whomping Willow's hit last year. He'd have to let it know that it had competition... if he survived.

A sympathetic groan rose from the stands. "Oh dear! That'll definitely leave a mark in the morning!"

The force lifted him off his feet and launched him a few meters away. Instinctively, he spread his arms out to soften the harsh landing.

He crashed first onto his back, before rolling and skidding a short distance across the floor into a heap. Even his glasses now hung loosely at his chin.

"Accident or not, the Horntail has landed its first substantial hit onto Mr Potter!" Harry could scarcely even make sense of the commentary now. The worries of the crowd were drowned out by the ringing in his ears and pain was overwhelming his senses. "Will he be able to recover, or does this spell the end for this champion?"

Reeling from his injuries, he still pushed himself onto his back and went into recovery mode by trying to catch his breath. Grunting and gasping, Harry pushed past the pain radiating from his side and did his best to regulate his breath. But each he took sent a sharp pang through him as if stakes were being driven into him with mallets.

Considering the possibility that he'd broken something, a grimacing Harry assessed the damage by gingerly running his fingers over his shirt and the tender flesh. Stinging jolts shot up his side as a sea of colours flashed over his vision.

"Owwww…" he groaned through gritted teeth. It hurt like hell, but from what he could tell his ribs didn't seem to be broken. Bruised at best, and perhaps just fractured at worst.

The crowd watched as both the competitor and his obstacle lay on the arena floor, momentarily disabled by the damage inflicted upon each other. The only bright side was that the Horntail seemed more disoriented than him.

Still, it was only a matter of time before it would recover, and Harry couldn't afford to be around when it did.

His shaky hand reached out to readjust his glasses back onto his face before he got onto his knees. Very slowly, Harry clambered back up onto his feet. Clutching his side, he began to hectically hobble away from the Horntail. Each shuffling step sent a wave of pain up his side, making the champion hiss out. But he clenched his teeth and kept on going.

"Go, Mr Potter! Go! You can do th—!" Ludo's words died abruptly as confusion grew amongst the observers. "Why, what's this?! Did he bump his head too? Just where's he going?!"

Harry wasn't heading directly towards the unprotected nest. Instead, he veered off to the edge of the arena, a portion populated by boulders. He whipped his wand out and got to work, all to kickstart the plan he'd formulated earlier. Many in the crowd were scratching their heads, but his friends knew better than to doubt him now.

Time was running thin for Harry as the Horntail finally shook the stars out of its eyes. It huffed and puffed as the concussion faded, continuing the chase with a newfound fervour.

Thankfully, Harry had finished. He had finally passed through the field of rocks, tapping his wand onto any he passed as well as summoning even more in his wake. The large stones vibrated as they reshaped themselves. Their rugged exteriors shrunk back and tightened up, even polishing themselves as they started squeezing into identically-shaped, bottom-heavy ovals.

Over a dozen of these identical stones now sat unmoving in the field, like scattered seeds in a giant's garden.

*O*O*O*

"Has he lost his mind?!" Daphne heard someone shout mockingly a few rows back. "What good's a few shiny rocks gonna do to a dragon?"

But Daphne and Hermione seemed to have already put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"That's brilliant!"

"What?" squawked an excited Tracey, glancing between her friends and Harry, "What's he up to?!"

Her question was soon answered as the Horntail's reckless charge came to a screeching halt just before the field of polished stones. It appeared bewildered as it glanced around at them all.

Seeing Harry getting further and further away, it took another second before trying to catch up. It stepped tentatively between each stone as if it were trying to navigate through a veritable minefield.

It all clicked in Tracey's head. "Ooh! I get it!"

Only then was it clear to everyone else too.

Eggs!

Harry had transformed the rocks to resemble the dragon's eggs! Harry had used the dragon's protective nature against itself as there was no way it would risk trampling on what it assumed to have been its own young!

"A most ingenious trick by the youngest champion! But will it be enough to throw the dragon off his tail?"

It tried flapping its wings, trying to get airborne, but the great gusts it produced with its initial flaps sent the stones tumbling to the side. This seemed to worry the dragon even further, who was clearly torn between the appearance of this new clutch of eggs and the human pest. Ultimately, it gave up on taking flight and proceeded through cautiously.

All this time finally gave Harry enough of a lead to head towards his goal. He had successfully bested his obstacle, even after suffering that nasty hit.

"He's almost there," fawned Daphne. "Excellent work, Harry!"

A moment later, Tracey leaned in with a large smirk.

"Don't ya mean 'egg-cellent'?" she asked with a snort.

The only response she received was a look of resounding disapproval.

*O*O*O*

The final stretch of this hectic chase made Harry's legs feel like they were on fire — which, thankfully, they weren't. He'd even double-checked in case some stray embers had gotten onto him.

Every breath he took grew more ragged, and he began to stumble a little as his feet struggled to find purchase on the loose gravel. The earlier terror, his injury, and the physical and mental toll of survival had steadily chipped away at his stamina. Exhaustion was creeping up to him.

Just a bit further and he would be in the clear. Only then, could he finally rest.

"Despite his injuries, Mr Potter is still on the move! He's so close!" Bagman's voice rang out.

Even if participating in the Tournament had never been his intention, pride still swelled in Harry's chest. He had outsmarted and survived his obstacle, showing he was just as capable of competing as the others, regardless of age.

Just as he was a few meters from touching the golden egg, he heard the Chimaeras' voices cutting through the crowd.

It was hard to miss it since they were screaming in unison.

"Harry! Behind you!"

Alarmed, Harry turned to see the Horntail, its torso propped up by its wings while its head was reared back.

There was that damned light rising in its throat again.

Surrounded by fake eggs, the Horntail belted out the familiar roar, forcing the inferno out of its throat. As the first flames started to spill from its mouth, time seemed to slow for a wide-eyed Harry.

What could he do?

Think.

There wasn't enough time to grab the golden egg. It was still too far from him. He wouldn't make it.

As the fire crept closer, the weight of the Portkey seemed to grow in his pocket, as if reminding him that this was the perfect opportunity to save himself.

No.

Call it foolish, but he was going to stand his ground. Call it that signature Gryffindor recklessness and pride, but he hadn't made it to the end just to run. Just like before, he believed he could find a solution. Harry was hedging his bets on himself — though he preferred the term 'believing in himself' a bit more. It sounded a lot less like a gamble, which it was — make no mistake.

Even from a distance, Harry could feel the heat roiling across his face. It was a gentle reminder that, despite the circumstances, time was still clearly ticking by. He just had to think a little faster now.

He only had enough strength for one last attempt. Digging himself out of this again was not possible.

So… which spell now?

Think!

The dragon was magic-resistant because of its thick hide… but the same could not be said of its fire.

The answer came naturally after that. Harry went with one of the other spells he had been practising over the last few weeks.

Depulso.

Mustering his magic, Harry turned to face the approaching wall of fire. He could still see its intense glow through his eyelids even as he shut his eyes.

Whether due to his warped perception of time or simply exhaustion, Harry's wand felt as heavy as if it were made of lead when he lifted it. It was like manoeuvring through molasses, but he still made a conscious effort to direct it up into the air, above and away from the dragon. He felt like a knight brandishing his blade for his final stand — which seemed appropriate.

There was no shouting nor any bravado. He didn't think about all the hours he'd spent idly practising the spell's movements under the table or the success he found using it against Draco.

Instead, only the thought of Daphne came to mind.

She was by his side on the soft, rolling hills just outside the Forbidden Forest, a kind smile on her face and her wand in her hands. It was a vivid memory of the day she had taught him Accio and Depulso.

The rushing wall of Dragonfire was nearly upon him now, yet all he could think about was her and the way her hair billowed in the wind under the darkening skies of that sweet September evening.

Instilled with a great calmness, and with his eyes still shut, Harry faithfully conjured the charm as he had been taught that night.

"Depulso."

Time started to flow again as the white light of the spell flooded half of the arena.

The conjured force punched right through the centre of the blaze just as he was moments away from incineration. It sucked and pulled the roaring inferno away from him, diverting it towards the sky, along with a great deal of sand and dust.

The massive column of pure white magic and furious orange fire churned against each other, emitting a vibrant, dancing incandescence across the entire arena that captivated the crowd. Even the Horntail found itself bewitched by the sight.

After a few more moments, the mingling light show slowly dispersed, leaving behind only the scent of acrid smoke on the wind.

When the dust finally settled, all eyes bore witness to Harry Potter sitting at the edge of the nest with a victorious smile carved into his exhausted face.

Cradled safely in his lap was the distinct gleam of a golden shell.

It was Bagman's announcement that finally snapped the crowd out of its stupor. "Ladies and gents, there we have it! Harry Potter has claimed his egg and has made it through to the second task!" Adulation was showered upon Harry as the stands erupted into celebration. Wands were raised, firing small sparks and vanishing confetti into the air.

As the dragon handlers rushed in to contain the Horntail, the judges began deliberating over Harry's performance. He barely paid any attention to them as his weary gaze was affixed onto the Horntail, who wailed sadly as it was separated from the nest, chained, and forced into containment.

Though the dragon might not have shared the sentiment, Harry had at least done his best not to hurt it too seriously.

After all that he'd been through with it, he had started to feel as if they were kindred spirits. Be it a clutch of eggs or Daphne, they had been forced to participate in the name of protecting something that meant the world to them.

As the cage was taken away, Harry turned to the stands. There, he saw his friends. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying anymore over all the noise, but their excitement was evident from the way they were practically spilling from the railings. The Slytherins around them were acting more like Gryffindors too, hollering their heads off and dancing with each other in celebration.

Grinning broadly, he patted the top of the shiny egg, silently sharing the result of their combined efforts with them. Without them, he didn't ever think that he could have made it here.

Finally, he fully focused on the beautiful blonde in the middle of all the chaos. Happy tears had welled in her warm, proud eyes as she blew kisses his way. While it felt as though Lockhart had vanished his bones again, Harry did his best to return the gesture as many times as his battered body would allow.

To the rest of the students it just looked as if he was wearily smearing his hand over his mouth repeatedly, but those who knew of their relationship had no trouble deciphering his intentions.

Tracey and Hermione exchanged wry smiles at their sappy behaviour, while Astoria squealed shrilly at the affectionate display between the two.

"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! Daphne! He's kissing back! He's kissing you back!"

Daphne was too busy fawning over Harry to respond to her sister.

Finally, the scores were tallied and the results proved shocking to the students. Inching past Krum by just a single point, Harry Potter had taken the lead in the tournament for now.

It hadn't been a staggering win, but it had been enough.

*O*O*O*

Ron was up and out of his seat by the time the results were declared. His half-hearted apologies were barely heard as he hurriedly squeezed himself past the sea of cheering bodies.

He had to see Harry.

*O*O*O*

Draco snarled at the results, huffing as he stomped off. Crabbe and Goyle mimicked his frustrations, equally displeased that Harry had come out on top today.

Draco gnawed furiously on his lower lip, measuring the day's losses.

While his savings had suffered a crushing blow today, losing all that money hadn't been too detrimental. It wasn't as if he was going to start rationing even from such a loss. But if his father found out, it would certainly spell the end to his monthly pocket money for the rest of the year.

What mattered more was the beating his ego had taken. The earlier emptiness he felt had vanished, consumed by the same flames that had failed to devour Potter. It irked him that he had also felt that twang of… what was it?

Concern?

Draco elbowed a small Hufflepuff out of his way.

Sympathy?

He ignored the cries of a yelping Ravenclaw, whose toes he had stepped on.

Bah! Whatever it was, it had cost Draco dearly, and he regretted it!

Still, Potter's continued survival did please him — if only a little. It meant that Draco still had time to even the score with him, and then some!

As he skulked off back to the dorms, Draco couldn't help the devious smile that emerged.

If he couldn't beat Potter with magic then Draco would have to go for every conceivable angle to find more things to best him in. Yes… He would prove to Potter that he was superior in every other regard! Bit by bit, Draco would chip away, topple, and then crush Potter in his own inadequacies!

And Draco had already thought of the perfect way to begin — one that involved his Slytherin counterpart in both looks and status: Daphne Greengrass.

If he could get her onboard then he would be unstoppable!

In the meantime, he would have to borrow a bit from his family's vast savings. Surely his father wouldn't notice a bit of their fortune going missing…

*O*O*O*

Despite a majority of the students losing their bets, most seemed satisfied with today's results. Harry had undoubtedly proven himself to everyone, and they considered the loss as the price paid for being able to watch such an exciting match.

Unlike the rest of the crowd, Harry was far too tired to celebrate. With a great big sigh of relief, he fell onto his back, completely exhausted. Mediwizards were already rushing to his side, assisting him onto a floating stretcher.

Even as exhausted as he was, Harry still had a smile on his face and an overwhelming sense of relief as he was taken away.

One down. Two to go.

*O*O*O*

Chapter 14: End

*O*O*O*

A/N:

Hello all. Sorry, I took a little longer with the next chapter. Tried editing the fic from fanfic's mobile app and it kept messing up and duplicating lines of text after I had finished formatting everything so I had to check if there were any issues again. Do let me know if you spot any errors though!

I understand some of you might be confused with my fixation on the Portkey, but you'll just have to wait and see where that plotline goes.

Hope you all enjoyed what I've done with the first task! Wanted to make it an actual challenge for Harry and let him put the skills he's been honing to the test! I don't fully know how differently I'll be changing the Second and Third Task, but I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

Until then, do let me know what you think about this chapter and I'll see you next time!