Harry got up on Sunday morning and dressed so inattentively that it was a while before he realized he was trying to pull his hat onto his foot instead of his sock. When he'd finally got all his clothes on the right parts of his body, he hurried off to find Hermione and Antheia, locating them at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, where they were eating breakfast with Ginny. Feeling too queasy to eat, Harry waited until they had swallowed their last bite of food, then dragged them out into the grounds for another walk. There, he told them all about the dragons, and about everything Sirius had said, while they took another long walk around the lake.
Alarmed as she was by Sirius' warnings about Karkaroff, Hermione still thought that the dragons were the more pressing problem.
"Let's just try and keep you alive until Tuesday evening," she said desperately, "and then we can worry about Karkaroff."
"How are you supposed to defeat a dragon with a simple spell, though?" Antheia wondered out loud.
They walked three times around the lake, trying all the way to think of a simple spell that would subdue a dragon. Nothing whatsoever occurred to them, so they retired to the library instead. Here, Harry pulled down every book he could find on dragons, and all of them set to work searching through the large pile.
"Talon-clipping by charms ... treating scale rot ... this is no good, this is for nutters like Hagrid who want to keep them healthy ..."
"Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate ... but Sirius said a simple one would do it ..."
"Let's check out some spellbooks; maybe they'll show some simple spells ..." said Antheia, throwing aside Men Who Love Dragons Too Much.
She returned to the table with a pile of spellbooks, set them down, and began to flick through each in turn, Hermione whispering non-stop. "Well, there are Switching Spells ... but what's the point of Switching it? Unless you swapped its fangs for wine gums or something, that would make it less dangerous ... the trouble is, like that book said, not much is going to get through a dragon's hide ..."
"You could possibly Transfigure it, but a dragon's much too difficult ... even Professor McGonagall might not be able to," Antheia muttered, flipping frantically through the pages.
"But they're not simple spells, I mean, we haven't done any of those in class, I only know about them because I've been doing O.W.L. practice papers ..." whispered Hermione continuously.
"Hermione," Harry said, through gritted teeth, "will you shut up for a bit, please? I'm trying to concentrate. And Antheia, stop flipping through so quickly - I'm trying to read."
Antheia dropped the book on the table annoyedly and Hermione fell silent. Harry's brain filled with a sort of blank buzzing, which didn't seem to allow room for concentration. He stared hopelessly down the index of Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed: instant scalping ... but dragons had no hair ... pepper breath ... that would probably increase a dragon's firepower ... horn tongue ... just what he needed, to give it an extra weapon ...
"Oh, no, he's back again, why can't he read on his stupid ship?" said Hermione irritably, as Viktor Krum slouched in, cast a surly look over at them, settled himself in a distant corner with a pile of books. "Come on, we'll go back to the common room ... his fan club'll be here in a moment, twittering away ..."
And sure enough, as they left the library, a gang of girls tiptoed past them in the library, one of them wearing a Bulgarian scarf tied around her waist.
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
Harry barely slept that night. When he awoke on Monday morning, he seriously considered, for the first time ever, just running away from Hogwarts. But as he looked around the Great Hall at breakfast time, and thought about what leaving the castle would mean, he knew he couldn't do it. It was the only place he had ever been happy ... well, he supposed he must have been happy with his parents, too, but he couldn't remember that.
"I'll see you in the greenhouses," Harry said, coming to his decision as he watched Cedric leaving the Hall. "Go on, I'll catch you up."
"Harry, you'll be late, the bell's about to ring -" Hermione said.
"I'll catch you up, OK?"
"Wait," Antheia said, turning back, "I'll come with you. I don't want you to get made fun of again."
Harry smiled at her.
"Where are we going?" she asked. "Is it urgent?"
"I have to tell him about the dragons," Harry said. "Cedric, I mean."
By the time they reached the bottom of the marble staircase, Cedric was at the top. He was with a load of sixth-year friends. Harry didn't want to talk to Cedric in front of them; they were among those who had been quoting Rita Skeeter's article at him every time he went near them. Following Cedric at a distance, he saw that he was heading towards the Charms corridor. This gave Harry an idea. Pausing at a distance from them, he pulled out his wand, and took careful aim.
"Diffindo!"
Cedric's bag split. Parchment, quills, and books spilled out of it onto the floor. Several bottles of ink smashed.
"You could've just called him over," Antheia laughed.
"Don't bother," said Cedric in an exasperated voice, as his friends bent down to help him, "tell Flitwick I'm coming, go on ..."
This was exactly what Harry had been hoping for. He slipped his wand back into his robes, waited until Cedric's friends had disappeared into their classroom, and hurried up the corridor, which was now empty of everyone but himself, Cedric, and Antheia.
"Hi," said Cedric, picking up a copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration that was now splattered with ink. "My bag just split ... brand new and all ..."
"Here," Antheia said, pulling her wand out in pity, "just hold it ... reparo! There! Better now?"
"Oh - yeah! Thanks," said Cedric, beaming at her, "Antheia Lupin, right?"
She nodded. "How did you know?"
"Star chaser, aren't you? My friends talk about you a lot."
Harry cleared his throat.
"Oh, right," Antheia said, remembering the purpose of their conversation, "Harry had to tell you something important, Cedric."
"The first task is dragons," said Harry.
"What?" said Cedric, looking at him.
"Dragons," said Harry, speaking quickly, in case Professor Flitwick came out to see Cedric where had got to. "They've got four, one for each of us, and we've got to get past them."
Cedric stared at him. Harry saw some of the panic he'd been feeling since Saturday night flickering in Cedric's grey eyes.
"Are you sure?" Cedric said, in a hushed voice.
"Dead sure," said Harry. "I've seen them."
"But how did you find out? We're not supposed to know ..."
"Never mind," said Harry quickly - he knew Hagrid would be in trouble if he told the truth. "But I'm not the only one who knows. Fleur and Krum will know by now - Maxime and Karkaroff both saw the dragons, too."
Cedric straightened up, his bag dangling off one shoulder. He stared at Harry, and there was a puzzled, almost suspicious look in his eyes.
"Why are you telling me?" he asked.
Harry looked at him in disbelief. He was sure Cedric wouldn't have asked that if he had seen the dragons himself. Harry wouldn't have let his worst enemy face those monsters unprepared - well, perhaps Malfoy or Snape ...
"It's just ... fair, isn't it?" he said to Cedric. "We all know now ... we're on even footing, aren't we?"
Cedric was still looking at him in a slightly suspicious way when Harry heard a familiar clunking noise behind him. He turned around, and saw Mad-Eye Moody emerging from a nearby classroom.
"Come with me, Potter," he growled. "Diggory, Lupin, off you go."
Antheia stared at Moody. "But, Professor - Harry and I have Herbology -"
"Never mind that. Potter, in my office, please ..."
Harry followed him, wondering what was going to happen to him now. What if Moody wanted to know how he'd found out about the dragons? Would Moody go to Dumbledore and tell on Hagrid, or just turn Harry into a ferret? Well, it might be easier to get past a dragon if he was a ferret, Harry thought dully, he'd be smaller, much less easy to see from a height of fifty feet ...
He followed Moody into his office. Moody closed the door behind them and turned to look at Harry, his magical eye fixed upon him as well as the normal one.
"That was a very decent thing you just did, Potter," Moody said quietly.
Harry didn't know what to say; this wasn't the reaction he had expected at all.
"Sit down," said Moody, and Harry sat, looking around.
He had visited this office under two of its previous occupants. In Professor Lockhart's day, the walls had been plastered with beaming, winking pictures of Professor Lockhart himself. When Lupin had lived here, you were more likely to come across a specimen of some fascinating new Dark creature he had procured for them to study in class, as well as a picture of a young Antheia on his desk. Now, however, the office was full of a number of exceptionally odd objects that Harry supposed Moody had used in the days when he had been an Auror.
On his desk stood what looked like a large, cracked glass spinning top; Harry recognized it at once as a Sneakoscope, because he owned one himself, though it was much smaller than Moody's. In the corner on a small table stood an object that looked something like an extra-squiggly, golden television aerial. It was humming slightly. What appeared to be a mirror hung opposite Harry on the wall, but it was not reflecting the room. Shadowy figures were moving around inside it, none of them clearly in focus.
"Like my Dark detectors, do you?" said Moody, who was watching Harry closely.
"What's that?" Harry asked, pointing at the squiggly golden aerial.
"Secrecy Sensor. Vibrates when it detects concealment and lies ... no use here, of course, too much interference - students in every direction lying about why they haven't done their homework. Been humming ever since I got here. I had to disable my Sneakoscope because it wouldn't stop whistling. It's extra-sensitive, picks up stuff about a mile around. Of course, it could be picking up more than kids' stuff," he added in a growl.
"And what's the mirror for?"
"Oh, that's my Foe-Glass. See them out there, skulking around? I'm not really in trouble until I see the whites of their eyes. That's when I open my trunk."
He let out a short, harsh laugh, and pointed to the large trunk under the window. It had seven keyholes in a row. Harry wondered what was in there, until Moody's next question brought him sharply back to earth.
"So ... found out about the dragons, have you?"
Harry hesitated. He'd been afraid of this - but he hadn't told Cedric, and he certainly wasn't going to tell Moody, that Hagrid had broken the rules.
"It's all right," said Moody, sitting down and stretching out his wooden leg with a groan. "Cheating's a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and always have been."
"I didn't cheat," said Harry sharply. "It was - a sort of accident that I found out."
Moody grinned. "I wasn't accusing you, laddie. I've been telling Dumbledore from the start, he can be as high-minded as he likes, but you can bet old Karkaroff and Maxime won't be. They'll have told their champions everything they can. They want to win. They want to beat Dumbledore. They'd like to prove he's only human."
Moody gave a harsh laugh, and his magical eye swivelled around so fast it made Harry feel queasy to watch it.
"So ... got any ideas how you're going to get past your dragon yet?" said Moody.
"No," said Harry.
"Well, I'm not going to tell you," said Moody gruffly. "I don't show favouritism, me. I'm just going to give you some good, general advice. And the first bit is - play to your strengths."
"I haven't got any," said Harry, before he could stop himself.
"Excuse me," growled Moody, "you've got strengths if I say you've got them. Think now. What are you best at?"
Harry tried to concentrate. What was he best at? Well, that was easy, really -
"Quidditch," he said dully, "and a fat lot of help -"
"That's right," said Moody, staring at him hard, his magical eye barely moving at all. "You're a damn good flier, from what I've heard."
"Yeah, but ..." Harry stared at him. "I'm not allowed a broom, I've only got my wand -"
"My second piece of advice," said Moody loudly, interrupting him, "is to use a nice, simple spell which will enable you to get what you need."
Harry looked at him blankly. What did he need?
"Come on, boy ..." whispered Moody. "Put them together ... it's not that difficult ..."
And it clicked. He was best at flying. He needed to pass the dragon in the air. For that, he needed his Firebolt. And for his Firebolt, he needed -
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
"Antheia," Harry whispered, when he had sped into greenhouse three ten minutes later, uttering a hurried apology to Professor Sprout as he passed her. "I need you to help me."
"What is it? What'd Moody say?" she whispered back hurriedly, her eyes wide with anxiety.
"Antheia, I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon."
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
And so Harry, Antheia, and Hermione practiced. They didn't have lunch, but headed for a free classroom, where Harry tried with all his might to make various objects fly across the room towards him. He was still having problems. The book and quills kept losing heart halfway across the room and dropping like stones to the floor.
"Concentrate, Harry, concentrate ..." Hermione kept saying.
"What d'you think I'm trying to do?" said Harry angrily. "A filthy great dragon keeps popping up in my head, for some reason ..."
"We're trying to help you, Harry," Antheia sighed, "Anyway, just try again."
He wanted to skip Divination to keep practising, but Hermione refused point-blank to skive off Arithmancy. However, Antheia had insisted on staying and helping Harry.
"You can't possibly skip Arithmancy!" Hermione said, sounding exasperated.
"He has no chance without one of us here, Hermione ..." Antheia explained.
"Hey!" Harry said.
"Don't try to deny it."
In the end, Hermione had finally agreed to allow them to skip a period for Harry to practice.
Helping Harry had proved quite frustrating, however. Harry's mind seemed to wander to endless places in that empty classroom and he was growing more and more angry, as well.
"This is never going to work," he groaned, tossing a tissue box they were practicing on onto a chair and collapsing onto the floor. "Why don't we just go back to the common room?"
"Because, Harry," Antheia said, sitting on the floor next to him and forcing him to sit up, "I gave up Arithmancy for this, and I'm not wasting it for you to sulk around. Besides, you need this."
"Why do you even care about missing it? You hate Arithmancy."
"I don't hate the class ... I just hate the subject. The class itself is quite entertaining, actually."
"What? Hermione always describes the class as quiet - how can it be so entertaining?"
"Hermione doesn't sit at my table," Antheia said simply, before standing back up. "Come on, we have to continue."
"So you mean you sit with someone you like talking to?" said Harry, refusing to stand up. "That's not Hermione?"
"Harry, get up."
"Is it Cedric?"
"He's in his sixth year. And the class is just Gryffindor and Slytherin. Now seriously, stand up."
Harry had stood up now, but wasn't focused on practicing. "Oh, so it's a Slytherin you fancy? It can't be Malfoy, right?"
"I don't fancy anyone. And it's not Malfoy, obviously."
"Who is it, then? Crabbe? Goyle?"
Antheia laughed. "Really, Harry? Goyle?"
"Yeah, you're right." Harry had finally taken out his wand now. Looking straight at the dictionary across the room, he muttered, "Accio!" The dictionary soared through the air for around two meters before flopping back onto the floor. They groaned.
"Harry, you really have to focus."
"Is it Zabini? Nott?"
Antheia hesitated. "Why are you so invested in this? Why can't you just do the spell, Harry!"
Harry stared at her. So it was one of them, he thought. He suddenly developed a sort of sinking feeling in his chest. He didn't want her to go out with a Slytherin; he had grown very protective of her.
"I'm sorry. Just - just forget it," Antheia muttered.
Other than a few suggestions, they practiced in silence after that. Soon, Harry had really gotten the hang of the Summoning Charm.
"That's a lot better, Harry," said Antheia, looking very pleased.
"Well, now we know what to do next time I can't manage a spell," Harry said, handing a Rune Dictionary to Antheia, so he could try again, "threaten me with a dragon. Right ..." He raised his wand once more. "Accio Dictionary!"
The heavy book soared out of Antheia's hand, flew across the room, and Harry caught it.
"You've really got it!" exclaimed Antheia.
"Just as long as it works tomorrow," Harry said. "The Firebolt's going to be much further away than the stuff in here, it's going to be in the castle, and I'm going to be out there in the grounds ..."
"It won't matter," said Antheia instantly, as if she was also trying to reassure herself. "As long as you're focusing on it, really hard, Harry."
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
Harry had been focusing so hard on learning the Summoning Charm that day that some of his blind panic had left him. It returned to him in full measure, however, on the following morning. The atmosphere in the school was one of great tension and excitement. Lessons were to stop at midday, giving all the students time to get down to the dragons' enclosure - though of course, they didn't yet know what they would find there.
Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him, whether they were wishing him good luck or hissing "We'll have a box of tissues ready, Potter" as he passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he mightn't just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight.
Time was behaving in more peculiar fashion than ever, rushing past in great dollops, so that one moment he seemed to be sitting down in his first lesson, History of Magic, and the next, walking into lunch ... and then (where had the morning gone? The last of the dragon-free hours?) Professor McGonagall was hurrying over to him in the Great Hall. Lots of people were watching.
"Potter, the champions have to come down into the grounds now ... you have to get ready for your first task."
"OK," said Harry, standing up, his fork falling onto his plate with a clatter.
"Wait, Harry," said Antheia suddenly, standing up, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for snapping at you, and not helping you enough. I'm sorry for not supporting you as much as I should've. And just - just remember what we worked on! You've gotten through loads more than this before. You're Harry James Potter! You've defeated dementors, Harry. Dragons are nothing!"
Harry could tell she was trying to reassure herself as much as him. But she was right. He had defeated dementors, with the help of her, of course.
"Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "you should get ready now."
He left the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall. She didn't seem herself, either; in fact, she looked nearly as anxious as Antheia. As she walked him down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, she put her hand on his shoulder.
"Now, don't panic," she said, "just keep a cool head ... we've got wizards on hand to control the situation if it gets out of hand ... the main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any worse of you ... are you all right?"
"Yes," Harry heard himself say. "Yes, I'm fine."
She was leading him towards the place where the dragons were, around the edge of the Forest, but when they approached the clump of trees behind which the enclosure would be clearly visible, Harry saw that a tent had been erected, its entrance facing them, screening the dragons from view.
"You're to go in here with the other champions," said Professor McGonagall, in a rather shaky sort of voice, "and wait for your turn, Potter. Mr. Bagman is in there ... he'll be telling you the - the procedure ... good luck."
"Thanks," said Harry, in a flat, distant voice. She left him at the entrance of the tent. Harry went inside.
Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Harry supposed was his way of showing nerves. Cedric was pacing up and down. When Harry entered, he gave him a small smile, which Harry returned, feeling the muscles in his face working rather hard, as though they had forgotten how to do it.
"Harry! Good-oh!" said Bagman happily, looking around at him. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"
Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again.
"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag" - he held up a small sack of purple silk, and shook it at them - "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too ... ah, yes ... your task is to collect the golden egg!"
Harry glanced around. Cedric had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then started pacing around the tent again; he looked slightly green. Fleur Delacour and Krum hadn't reacted at all. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths; that was certainly how Harry felt. But they, at least, had volunteered for this ...
And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking ... Harry felt as separate from the crowd as if they were a different species. And then - it felt about a second later to Harry - Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.
"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur Delcaour.
She put a shaking hand inside the bag, and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon - a Welsh Green. It had a number "two" around its neck. And Harry knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that he had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.
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 stared at the ground.
Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came the blueish-grey Swedish Short-Snout, the number "one" tied around its neck. Knowing what was left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag, and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number "four". It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its miniscule 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 am commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first, go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right?"
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
The whistle had blown.
In the stands, Antheia looked around. Hermione was next to her, clutching her face anxiously. Ron was not talking happily like everyone else, in fact, but looked almost as anxious as Hermione did. The roar of the crowd sounded and Antheia saw Cedric walk out into the enclosure and wave.
A blueish-grey dragon jumped into the scene and the crowd all yelped and gasped, as Cedric jumped around the dragon, throwing spells at it every so often.
After about fifteen minutes of Bagman's commentary ("Ooh, narrow miss there, very narrow ...") the crowd all let out a deafening roar as Cedric seized the golden egg.
"Very good indeed!" Bagman shouted. "And now the marks from the judges!"
After the marks had been held up by the four judges, Bagman yelled, "One down, three to go! Miss Delacour, if you please!
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
Soon, Fleur and Krum had both retrieved the golden egg and the whistle blew once again that signalled Harry to enter the enclosure.
Antheia's fingers were twitching and Hermione looked ready to faint. Then, they saw Harry through a gap in the fence. The Horntail was staring at him too, her bright yellow eyes on him. It was a monstrous, scaly black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, and Harry raised his wand.
"Accio Firebolt!" he shouted.
He waited, every fibre of him hoping, praying ... if it hadn't worked ... if it wasn't coming ... he seemed to be looking at everything around him through some sort of shimmering, transparent barrier, like a heat haze, which made the enclosure and the hundreds of faces around him swim strangely.
And then he heard it, speeding through the air behind him; he turned and saw his Firebolt hurtling towards him around the edge of the woods, soaring into the enclosure, and stopping dead in mid-air beside him, waiting for him to mount.
He swung his leg over the broom, and kicked off from the ground. And a second later, something miraculous happened ...
As he soared upwards, as the wind rushed through his hair, as the crowd's faces became mere flesh-coloured pinpricks below, and the Horntail shrank to the size of a dog, he realised that he had left not only the ground behind, but also his fear ... he was back where he belonged ...
This was just another Quidditch match, that was all ... just another Quidditch match, and that Horntail was just another ugly opposing team ...
He looked down at the clutch of eggs, and spotted the gold one, gleaming against its cement-coloured fellows, residing safely between the dragon's front legs. "OK," Harry told himself, "diversionary tactics ... let's go ..."
He dived. The Horntail's head followed him; he knew what it was going to do, and pulled out of the dive just in time; a jet of fire had been released exactly where he would have been had he not swerved away ... but Harry didn't care ... that was no more than dodging a Bludger ...
"Great Scott, he can fly!" yelled Bagman, as the crowd shrieked and gasped. "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"
Harry soared higher in a circle; the Horntail was still following his progress; its head revolving on its long neck - if he kept this up, it would be nicely dizzy - but better not push it too long, or it would be breathing fire again -
Harry plummeted just as the Horntail opened its mouth, but this time he was less luck - he missed the flames, but the tail came whipping up to meet him instead, and as he swerved to the left, one of the long spiked grazed his shoulder, ripping his robes -
He could feel it stinging, he could hear screaming and groans from the crowd, but the cut didn't seem to be deep ... now he zoomed around the back of the Horntail, and a possibility occurred to him.
The Horntail didn't seem to want to take off, she was too protective of her eggs. Though she writhed and twisted, furling and unfurling her wings and keeping those fearsome yellow eyes on Harry, she was afraid to move too far from them ... but he had to persuade her to do it, or he'd never get near them ... the trick was to do it carefully, gradually ...
He began to fly, first this way, then the other, not near enough to make her breathe fire to stave him off, but still posing a sufficient threat to ensure she kept her eyes on him. Her head swayed this way and that, watching him out of those vertical pupils, her fangs bared ...
He flew higher. The Horntail's head rose with him, her neck now stretched to its fullest extent, still swaying, like a snake before its charmer ...
Harry rose a few more feet, and she let out a roar of exasperation. He was like a fly to her, a fly she was longing to swat; her tail thrashed again, but he was too high to reach now ... she shot fire into the air, which he dodged ... her jaws opened wide ...
Hermione was clutching Antheia's arm extremely tightly at this point, almost cutting off her blood flow.
"Hermione -"
"Right, sorry," Hermione said, before moving on to clutching her chair.
"Come on, Harry ..." Antheia whispered.
Harry swerved tantalisingly above her, "come on, come and get me ... up you get, now ..."
And then she reared, spreading her great black leathery wings at last, as wide as those of a small aeroplane - and Harry dived. Before the dragon knew what he had done, or where he had disappeared to, he was speeding towards the ground as fast as he could go, towards the egg now unprotected by her clawed, front legs - he had taken his hands off his Firebolt - he had seized the golden egg -
And with a huge spurt of speed, he was off, he was soaring out over the stands, the heavy egg safely under his uninjured arm, and it was as though somebody had just turned the volume back up - for the first time, he became properly aware of the noise of the crowd, which was screaming and applauding as loudly as the Irish supporters at the World Cup.
"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"
But Antheia wasn't listening because it was over. He had survived it, and nothing else mattered to her because he was okay.
She saw the dragon-keepers rushing towards him to subdue the Horntail and the noise of the crowd was deafening.
Ron was clapping now, too, looking immensely relieved. With Ron and Hermione, Antheia ran towards the tent Harry was heading to.
"Harry!" Antheia cried, throwing her arms around him. His arms were shaking still, but he squeezed back as much as he could muster.
"Harry, you were brilliant!" Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. "You were amazing! You really were!"
Letting go of Harry, Antheia said, "I was so nervous, Harry, but you were excellent!"
Harry now looked at Ron, who was very white, and staring at Harry as though he was a ghost.
"Harry," he said, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that Goblet - I - I reckon they're trying to do you in!"
It was as though the last few weeks had never happened - as though Harry was meeting Ron for the first time, right after he'd been made champion.
"Caught on, have you?" said Harry coldly. "Took you long enough."
Hermione stood nervously between them, looking from one to the other. Antheia was smiling excitedly. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly. Harry knew Ron was about to apologise and, suddenly he found he didn't need to hear it.
"It's OK," he said, before Ron could get the words out. "Forget it."
"No," said Ron, "I shouldn't've -"
"Forget it," Harry said.
Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back.
Hermione burst into tears.
"There's nothing to cry about!" Harry told her, bewildered.
"You two are so stupid!" she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before either of them could stop her, she had given both of them a hug, and dashed away, now positively howling.
"Barking," said Ron, shaking his head.
"She's right, Ron," said Antheia, tears in her eyes. "You guys are ridiculous! Oh, Ron, I missed you so much!" She gave him a hug that strongly resembled one of Mrs. Weasley's.
"Don't tell me you're going to cry, too!" Ron groaned.
"No, no, but Harry," said Antheia, sniffing and blinking back her tears, "they'll be putting up your scores soon."
Picking up the golden egg and his Firebolt, feeling more elated than he would have believed possible an hour ago, Harry ducked out of the tent, Ron and Antheia by his side, talking fast.
"You were the best, you know, no competition," Ron said quickly, "Cedric did this weird thing where he Transfigured a rock on the ground ... turned it into a dog ... he was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of him. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because he did get the egg, but he got burnt as well - the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have him than the labrador, he only just got away. And that Fleur girl tried this sort of charm, I think she was trying to put it into a trance - well, that kind of worked, too, it went all sleepy, but then it snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her skirt caught fire - she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand. And Krum - you won't believe this, but he didn't even think of flying! He was probably the best after you, though. Hit it with some sort of spell right in the eye. Only thing is, it went trampling around in agony and squashed half the real eggs - they took marks off for that, he wasn't supposed to do any damage to them."
Ron drew breath as they reached the edge of the enclosure. Now that the Horntail had been taken away, Harry could see where the five judges were sitting - right at the other end, in raised seats draped in gold.
"The scores are out of ten from each person," Antheia said, and Harry, squinting up the field, saw the first judge - Madame Maxime - raise her wand in the air. What looked like a long, silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure eight.
"Not bad!" said Ron, as the crowd applauded. "I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder ..."
Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air.
"Yes!" Antheia exclaimed, as Ron thumped Harry on the back.
Next Dumbledore. He, too, put up a nine. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.
Ludo Bagman - ten.
"Ten?" said Harry in disbelief. "But ... I got hurt ... what's he playing at?"
"Harry, don't complain!" Ron yelled excitedly.
And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand, too - four.
"What?" Ron bellowed furiously.
"Are you kidding?" Antheia yelled angrily, and Ron nodded in agreement to her. "He gave Krum a ten and he did way worse than you!"
But Harry didn't care, he wouldn't have cared if Karkaroff had given him zero; Ron's indignation on his behalf was worth about a hundred points to him. He didn't tell Ron this, of course, but his heart felt lighter than air as he turned to leave the enclosure. And it wasn't just Ron ... those weren't only Gryffindors cheering in the crowd. When it had come to it, when they had seen what he was facing, most of the school had been on his side, as well as Cedric's ... he didn't care about the Slytherins, he could stand whatever they threw at him now.
"You're tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!" said Charlie Weasley, hurrying to meet them as they set off back towards the school. "Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened - but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah - and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes ... Bagman wants a word, back in the champions' tent."
Antheia decided to go meet Hermione and check on her, while Ron said he would wait, so Harry re-entered the tent, which somehow looked different now; friendly and welcoming. He thought back to how he'd felt while dodging the Horntail, and compared it to the long wait before he'd walked out to face it ... there was no comparison, the wait had been immensely worse.
Fleur, Cedric, and Krum all came in together.
One side of Cedric's face was covered in a thick orange paste, which was presumably mending his burn. He grinned at Harry when he saw him. "Good one, Harry."
"And you," said Harry, grinning back.
"Well done, all of you!" said Ludo Bagman, bouncing into the tent, and looking as pleased as though he personally had just got past a dragon. "Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth - but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open ... see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg - because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!"
Harry left the tent, rejoined by Ron, and they started to walk back around the edge of the Forest, talking hard; Harry wanted to hear what the other champions had done in more detail. Then, as they rounded the clump of trees behind which Harry had first heard the dragons roar, a witch leapt out from behind them.
It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them.
"Congratulations, Harry!" she said, beaming at him. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel now about the fairness of the scoring?"
"Yeah, you can have a word," said Harry savagely. "Goodbye."
And he set off back to the castle with Ron.
─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─
a/n: I added a new first part to this book as an updated first impression of the book and made the original first chapter a synopsis so make sure to check that out as well as vote and comment as always!