Over the next week, when they weren't in classes, Les Amis were in the library researching dragons. They had split up the research based on what they already knew about dragons, which was not very much, even though Ginny had always listened to Charlie whenever he talked about his job. Hermione was studying fireproofing spells, Neville and Ginny were studying male dragons, Ron and Luna were studying female dragons, and Draco and Harry were studying hatchlings.
Everything was going well, everyone finding important information, but Harry noticed that Draco seemed to be distracted.
He nudged the blonde and leaned against him. "Hey, you ok?"
Draco jerked in his seat and looked down at Harry. "Yeah, sorry, just lost in thought."
With that, he turned back to his research, but Harry frowned. Draco may say that everything was fine, but he could tell that something was wrong. Well, if he didn't want to talk about it there was nothing for it, so Harry turned back to his own research.
A moment later Ron spoke up from his spot. "We better hope that you don't get a nesting mother. This book has a whole chapter dedicated to how much more dangerous they are than any other dragon. Which, makes sense. I'm pretty sure Mum is about ten times more dangerous than Dad any day of the week, just in general, but if something were hurting us kids she'd be even worse."
Ginny nodded fervently. "In fact, we better hope that if anything you get a male dragon out of mating season. They're pretty lazy and ignore everything that isn't explicitly provoking them, according to this book."
Hermione leaned over towards Ron. "What about a mother who's eggs have hatched but the hatchlings have started to grow? How long is a mother a nesting mother?"
"Until the babies leave I expect," Ron says. "The book doesn't say exactly, although it does mention that even when mothers have been separated from their hatchlings shortly after birth they still recognize them later."
Hermione nodded and leaned back before putting her book on the table. "Makes sense. Now. There are a lot of fireproofing spells, but I'm not sure if they'll work against dragon fire. It's well known for being more powerful than other magically created fire, so we need to find some backup plan just in case, or just don't get hit."
Harry laughed nervously as Draco glared at him lightly. "I guess we should go for 'don't get hit' and find other fireproofing methods?"
Draco's glare lessened as he spoke up. "Another interesting thing is that dragons are born with as much fire as they're going to have, but hatchlings are less likely to be able to control it, so like baby snakes and their venom, dragonettes might kill you on accident while an adult dragon might just scorch you a little."
Harry nodded. "I remember reading that too. So hope for an adult male out of breeding season. Of course knowing my luck, that means we're getting a nesting mother with a just hatched dragonette, so prepare for the worst."
The rest of the group nodded grimly and turned back to their research, Harry moving to help Hermione find other ways to protect against the dragon fire.
**************************
Harry stepped out of the Arithmancy classroom with Hermione and Draco and heard quiet talking from the hallway over. He motioned for his friends to be quiet and carefully snuck over to hear what was happening. It had sounded like one of the Headmasters from the other schools, and they would have no reason to be speaking so quietly in such an out of the way area, so Harry wanted to know what was going on.
He was glad he had come to listen, because he found Madame Maxime telling one of her male students about how fire was such a dangerous thing and how they should all be very careful about it and anything that might make it. The cheating was not surprising, and at least she wasn't being blatant or obvious about it. At most, Delacour would eventually think of dragons, but it would take a while for her to get to that point. Several other creatures and objects made fire, such as phoenixes. Of course not many fiery creatures were dangerous like dragons, but the things that had been created by wizards were often very dangerous.
Harry turned away. Cheating was part of the game from what Draco had told him, and he was sure no one wanted anybody to die, so they made sure that they were at least well informed enough to not die. If he heard any rumors of Krum also knowing about the fire portion at least, Harry would make sure that Diggory knew to study up for fire related things, but no more. It was Cedric's responsibility to prepare, and he was also seventeen. He'd be fine. Besides, if Harry helped Cedric, the Hufflepuff would feel the need to keep things fair and might help Harry later, which might keep him alive too.
Harry slipped away back to his friends and grinned at them. "Everything's fine. We should get to our next class."
By the end of the day, he had heard Karkaroff speaking directly to Krum about fire and it's danger, so Harry wrote a note for Diggory, then slipped it into his pocket as he walked past without the older boy even realizing he'd been given a note. The Dursleys were good for one thing at least.
The next day Harry saw Diggory in the library studying up on fireproofing spells and things that made fire and smiled. Good. At least he wouldn't die or something.
***************************
The day of the task finally arrived and Harry forced himself to eat a little bit of toast. Draco tried to get him to eat some more, but Harry knew if he ate anything else he'd just throw it all up. He anxiously sat next to Draco until Professor Snape seemed to materialize behind them.
"Gyrde. It's time. I will escort you to the location of the first task."
Harry nodded and turned to Draco, swallowing before waving goodbye and following Professor Snape. When they reached the tent, Professor Snape turned to Harry. He looked uncomfortable for a moment, then coughed and turned his head away.
"Good luck, Gyrde."
"Thanks, Professor," Harry whispered, and then Professor Snape swept away.
Harry took a deep breath and stepped inside the tent. Time to face the music.
***********************
Draco held his breath as he hovered outside the tent. It wouldn't be good if someone caught him out here, since he wasn't supposed to be here in the first place. But he just had to wish Harry good luck. It wouldn't feel right if he didn't, and while he would worry about Harry anyway, he would worry even more if he didn't get to see Harry one more time before he went out to face the dragon.
Finally, Draco heard Harry pacing on the other side of the tent flap and hissed at him.
"Harry!" he whispered furiously.
"Draco?" Harry asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?"
"I just- I wanted to wish you luck. You're going against a dragon after all."
Harry was quiet for a moment, then his breathing sped up and suddenly sank towards the ground. Draco abandoned all sense of subtlety and rushed into the tent just in time to catch Harry before he sank to the ground completely. Harry clung to him just as tightly as he clung to Harry, taking comfort from each other.
The moment was broken by the flash of a camera and the entrance of Rita Skeeter.
"Ah, young love," the woman said brightly. "And such scandalous love at that! The Boy-Who-Lived and a Malfoy of all people!"
Draco scowled at the woman as her Quick Quotes Quill wrote as she spoke. He had opened his mouth to defend Harry to the reporter when Harry spoke up from beside him.
"My friend, who I share a House with, was just wishing me good luck before I go face the first task. Is that such a horrible, scandalous thing? Is there nothing else worth writing about?"
Draco almost blushed, but managed to refrain by smirking at the witch instead. "I'm sure my father would love to hear about the Daily Prophet writing about the personal lives of underaged teenagers instead of the Triwizard Tournament itself, as you're supposed to. I'll make sure to mention it in my next letter to him, which should be going out, oh, tonight."
Skeeter blanched and her Quill began scratching out the words previously written. The other three champions stepped up as well, half surrounding Draco and Harry, and while Diggory glanced at them to make sure they were alright, Delacour glared at Skeeter.
"What do you think you're doing in here?" She hissed. "This tent is only for the champions to have quiet time to prepare for the task! Invited friends are one thing, but a reporter for what this country calls a newspaper is a completely different matter. You are not welcome here."
Krum nodded silently from beside her and Draco found himself feeling grateful for the older students. They had stepped in when needed, and not a second before, and had backed them up without a second thought.
Skeeter left with a huff, followed by her photographer and her still quickly writing Quill, and Draco turned back to Harry.
"I have to go, but I wanted to wish you luck one more time. You're going to do great, and if you die, I'll make Owlet learn Necromancy just to bring you back to life so I can kill you myself."
Harry laughed humorlessly, glancing away nervously. "We all know that Owlet wouldn't be able to do that nearly as well as I could, and I couldn't do it very well in the first place," he whispered. "But thanks. And spread my thanks to the others too."
Draco nodded, gave Harry one more tight hug, and vanished out of the tent to find a place to sit.
************************
Harry took a deep breath before turning to Mr. Bagman, who had just entered the tent dramatically, holding a suspiciously moving bag and followed by the Headmasters and Mr. Crouch.
"A few announcements, before we begin," Mr. Crouch said imperiously. "Firstly, the reveal of what your task is to be. You are to collect a golden egg from a nesting mother dragon. This egg will be the clue for your second task, so if you do not get it, you will not receive the clue for the second task. Secondly, what Mr. Bagman holds in his hand is a bag of the types of dragons you will face. You will each pick a dragon, and that dragon is the kind you will face in this task. Now. Mr. Bagman, if you please?"
"Yes, yes, of course, Mr. Crouch. Ladies first, I say, Mademoiselle Delacour, if you would?"
Delacour stepped forward and reached into the bag easily. When she pulled her hand out, she held a miniature green dragon that spouted flames at her fingers before curling up on her hand.
"Ah, the Welsh Green! And you'll be going second, as you can see by the number around the dragon's neck here. Next, let's have Mr. Krum. Come, come, pick out your dragon, don't be shy now!" Bagman said cheerfully.
Krum stepped forward as well, and when he stepped back, he was holding a red dragon that shot out an actual ball of fire.
"Ah, good! The Chinese Fireball! You'll be going third. Mr. Diggory, you're up. Come along now!" Bagman sounded even more cheerful, if it was possible.
Diggory swallowed nervously before reaching into the bag and drawing out a silvery-blue dragon. The dragon nipped at his fingers before coiling into it's tail in his hand.
"Good, good, the Swedish Short-Snout! Cheers, mate! You'll be going first! And now, Mr. Potter. Come on now, don't be nervous. These dragons can't give any lasting damage, unlike their very real counterparts outside!"
Harry grimaced at the use of his last name but stepped forward to grab the last dragon in the sack. He yanked his hand out when the dragon bit him, pulling the miniature out by the teeth.
"The Hungarian Horntail! Awful luck, mate, that's the toughest one there is!" Bagman sounded far too cheerful about Harry's possible imminent death, so Harry just forced out a smile and turned away to try and calm the angry little figure down. Maybe it would give him some hints that would help with his plan to deal with the dragon.
Bagman tried to pull Harry aside for a moment, but Harry just frowned at him and said he'd rather finish preparing for the task, so Bagman backed off. A few minutes later, there was muffled sounds from outside, then a cannon boomed. Diggory gulped and stepped out to cheers. About ten minutes later, he stepped back in, again to cheers, and immediately headed over to Madame Pomfrey, holding his arm to his side gingerly, but holding the golden egg tightly in his grasp in the other hand.
Another cannon boomed, and Delacour stepped out, head high and hair whipping behind her as the wind hit it. Krum began pacing while she was out there, and Harry turned towards the tent wall to avoid seeing his visible nervousness. It was making his own worse.
Another ten minutes or so passed, and Delacour stepped back in, head as high as it was when she left and not a scratch or burn on her. Harry had definitely heard the dragon roar at least once, so it was very impressive indeed.
A moment later, the cannon boomed for the third time, making Krum breathe in sharply before striding out confidently. He took a little longer, closer to fifteen minutes, but he strode back into the tent with just a mild burn and a slight grimace on his face as he looked back at the dragon before the tent flap closed.
Harry took a deep breath and braced himself as there was a longer pause this time before the cannon boomed. Were they having trouble getting the dragon into the enclosure? What did that say about the dragon and his chances of beating her? He wracked his brain for his plan, but found it completely blank. He started to panic, breathing quickly and shallowly. The cannon finally boomed, and Harry startled, jumping almost out of his skin before taking a deep breath and forcing himself to calm down. Panicking would not help his situation.
As he stepped out into the enclosure, he felt his throat closing up again and forced himself to breathe deeply. When he looked up to see the dragon, he saw that she was sitting proudly in front of her eggs, her tail wrapped around them protectively. She looked like what Harry would imagine a queen of dragons looking, and he gasped in awe. His mind went blank for a completely different reason than panic, and all he could think to do was hiss in Parseltongue at her, to see if she understood it.
Hello, he started to say, when he was interrupted with a loud roar that shook the ground beneath him and made him fall, scraping his arm on a sharp rock. He stared at his arm as blood started to well from it, unsure what to feel besides hysterical amusement. Apparently dragons didn't speak Parseltongue, and beyond that, they hated it. It made him laugh far to quickly and high for him to feel any actual amusement. Just like humans then.
Staring at his blood gave him an idea. His mind flashed back to one of the first classes with Professor Babbling.
"Be careful what you use when you perform magic with Runes. Etching runes into wood or stone or any other material will give you a permanent, if not particularly powerful on their own, magic base. This is how many wards are made. Runes carved into something will draw magic from what they're carved into, so many magical buildings were built on ley lines, giving near infinite magic to the runes carved into the foundations. Ink and similar mediums is a good option, because it is less permanent and will give a moderately powerful magic burst. But there is one thing you should only under the direst of circumstances use to write runes. Blood. If I hear of a single one of you using blood to write runes in any situation where you will not die if you do not, you will be lucky if you only have to deal with detention for the remainder of your time in my class. And my detention will not be as lenient as cleaning cauldrons with Professor Snape. Blood, when used for runes, draws magic from the person or animal the blood came from. Most people will use their own blood, as it is relatively easy to get, and has a measurable magical power."
He absently hoped that Professor Babbling wasn't in the crowd today, or maybe he hoped that she was, so that she could see that this was indeed a life or death situation, since the dragon seemed to be gearing up to shoot fire at him.
He dipped his finger into the blood on his arm, figuring that he should use the cleanest blood he could get to get the best reaction, and began tracing on the ground in a circle around him as quickly as he could. Thurisaz, for defense and reaction. Uruz, for strength and courage. Ansuz, for inspiration. Hagalaz, for being tested and overcoming obstacles. Wunjo, for success and reward. Nauthiz, for willpower, endurance, and self-reliance. Tiwaz, for logic and battle. Laguz, for intuition. And finally, directly in front of him, the rune that he saw in the mirror every day, Sowilo, for health and victory.
He finished writing just as fire burst from the dragons lungs, and Harry felt his magic leave him in a burst as a shield flashed into existence around him. The fire hit the shield and split around it as Harry almost collapsed from the magic rushing from him. A moment later the fire stopped coming, and his magic stopped powering the shield.
He had a flash of inspiration and pointed his wand towards his own throat. Hopefully this option would mean that only Professor Babbling would kill him, instead of Draco as well. Using the spell he had seen in a book in Slytherin's library, he whispered, "Alio Voce," then began speaking in Parseltongue.
He had no idea what to say, so he just said whatever popped into his head. He wondered if Salmissra or Jor could hear him and if they would make fun of whatever nonsense he said later. For now, it seemed the spell worked. The dragon turned towards where the voice seemed to be coming from and growled at it, spitting fire at it, then starting to follow it when the hissing didn't stop.
Harry crept forward slowly, staying in the cover of the boulders around the edge of the enclosure until he was behind her, where only her tail was wrapped around the nest. He hissed louder, trying to entice her into following the voice away from the nest. Finally, with agonizing slowness, her tail slid around the nest, leaving the path clear for Harry to sneak into the nest and grab the egg.
Thankfully, this spell made it seem like anything Harry said came from the place where he had imagined when he cast the spell, so even as he kept hissing, the dragon didn't hear him. He silently stepped into the nest, then to the center where the golden egg was, not touching a single other egg. He grabbed the egg, finally, then began to carefully pick his way out of the nest, still hissing, making himself sound angrier and like he was trying to get past the dragon so she would stay distracted. It worked, thankfully, and he was able to sneak out of the nest and back into the cover of the boulders and creeping back to the entrance of the tent before cancelling the spell and nearly collapsing because of the amount of magic he'd used.
He stepped back into the tent to the crowd's cheers and almost immediately collapsed. He saw the ground rushing up to meet him before everything went black.