The Hufflepuff with a Reputation |Fred Weasley x Fem reader|

Chapter Eleven: The First Task

Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack. "Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur Delacour. She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon — a Welsh Green. It had the number two around its neck. And I knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that I had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.

Bagman swung the bag over to me, the silk settled back to it's hanging place. I hastily put my hand into the bag, and it sunk deeper in than I had thought. The heat surfaced my hand and the small sensation of a nibble came onto my hand. I pulled my hand out, it was a Ukrainian Ironbelly, with a number four around its neck.

The same held true for Krum. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number three around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground. Cedric put his hand into the bag and out came the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number one tied around its neck. Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number five. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now . . . Harry . . . could I have a quick word? Outside?" "Er . . . yes," said Harry blankly, and he got up and went out of the tent with Bagman.

"Feeling all right, Ced?" I ask, putting my hand on his shoulder.

"What?" said Cedric nervously. "I —yeah, I'm okay."

"Got a plan?" I asked, lowering my voice conspiratorially.

"I know what I'm going to do, thanks."

Harry went back inside to me, Fleur and Krum. Seconds later, they heard the roar of the crowd, which meant Cedric had entered the enclosure and was now face-to-face with the living counterpart of his model. . . . It was worse than I could ever have imagined, sitting there and listening. The crowd screamed . . . yelled . . . gasped like a single many-headed entity, as Cedric did whatever he was doing to get past the Swedish Short-Snout. Krum was still staring at the ground. Fleur had now taken to retracing Cedric's steps, around and around the tent. And Bagman's commentary made everything much, much worse. . . . Horrible pictures formed in my mind as I heard:

"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow" . . . "He's taking risks, this one!" . . . "Clever move — pity it didn't work!"

And then, after about fifteen minutes, I heard the deafening roar that could mean only one thing: Cedric had gotten past his dragon and captured the golden egg. "Very good indeed!" Bagman was shouting. "And now the marks from the judges!" But he didn't shout out the marks; I supposed the judges were holding them up and showing them to the crowd.

"One down, four to go!" Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!" Fleur was trembling from head to foot; I felt more warmly toward her than I had done so far as she left the tent with her head held high and her hand clutching her wand. Me, Harry and Krum were left alone, at opposite sides of the tent, avoiding each other's gaze.

The same process started again. . . . "Oh I'm not sure that was wise!" they could hear Bagman shouting gleefully. "Oh . . . nearly! Careful now . . . good lord, I thought she'd had it then!" Ten minutes later, Harry heard the crowd erupt into applause once more. . . . Fleur must have been successful too. A pause, while Fleur's marks were being shown . . . more clapping . . . then, for the third time, the whistle.