"I'm going to be sick," Maggie murmurs, poking at the food on her plate. "What if I pass out when I look at the dragon?"
"You won't," Fred states. "You're Maggie McKinnon, you can do anything. You drink alcohol like a fish"
"Drinking alcohol is very different to fighting against a dragon!"
"You need to eat something Mags," Fred whispers to her. "You can't do this on an empty stomach"
Fred wraps his arm around Maggie who leans into his comforting touch. She wouldn't admit it out loud but she was terrified. She knew the risks of entering the tournament but to be face to face with a dragon that could kill her with one stomp of its foot made the threat all the more real.
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Maggie paces back and forth, fiddling with her wand as she tries to recall what she and Fred had read about dragons in the past few days. A hushed whisper draws her attention to where Harry is standing.
"Pssst! Harry? Is that you?" Hermione asks.
"Yeah," Harry whispers.
"How are you feeling? OK?" Hermione asks. "The key is to concentrate. After that you just have to-"
"Battle a dragon," Harry says.
Hermione is quick to shove the flap out of the way, launching herself at Harry as she pulls the boy into a crushing hug. A loud flash causes everyone to blink in surprise as spots fill their vision. Maggie turns to see the familiar offensive block of neon colours. Rita Skeeter steps out of the smoke of the camera her arms spread wide and a wide grin on her face.
"Young love!" Rita says. "Ohh how.. stirring. If everything goes, unfortunately, today you might make the front page"
"You have no business here," Viktor says, stepping up behind Hermione. "This tent is for champions and friends"
"Miss McKinnon-Crouch, any words before you enter the trial?"
"Not today Miss Skeeter," Maggie offers the woman a smile.
The offensive blast of colour exits the tent, her lap dog photographer chasing after her. Rita's exit was quickly followed by the entrance of Dumbledore, the other two headteachers and Maggie's grandfather.
"Good day, champions. Gather around, please. Now you've waited, you've wondered and at last, the moment has arrived. The moment only four of you can fully appreciate,"
"What are you doing here Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asks.
"Oh um- sorry I'll just go," Hermione says.
"Barty. The bag" Dumbledore says.
"Champions, in a circle around me. Miss Delacour over here, Mr Krum, Margot and Potter over here. Right. Miss Delacour, if you will-"
Barty holds up a burgundy bag with a golden drawstring. Fleur's hand was shaking as she reached into the bag, pulling out a small green dragon.
"The Welsh green. Mr Krum-"
The dragon Viktor pulled from the bag was scarlet and smooth-scaled with a fringe of golden spikes around its stub-snouted face and extremely protuberant eyes.
"The Chinese fireball. Oooooh," Barty says.
Maggie steps forward, her hand trembling as she reaches into the bag. Her fingers wrap around a small, moving thing and she pulls it out. The small dragon in her palm was covered in silver scales, huffing angrily. The witch closes her eyes and whispers a quiet prayer.
"The Swedish short-snout. Which leaves-" Barty says.
The dragon picked by Harry was undoubtedly the most fearsome of them all. Its dark, onyx-black scales gave it a sinister and menacing appearance, resembling that of a large, intimidating lizard. Its piercing yellow eyes with vertical slotted pupils, resembling those of a cat, added to its terrifying presence.
The dragon had magnificent bronze horns that looked though they were forged by the Greek god Hephaestus himself. The horns were accompanied by similarly coloured spikes that protruded from the end of its long tail, adding to its already formidable appearance..
"The Hungarian horntail," Maggie's Grandfather says. "These represent very real dragons, each of which has been given a golden egg to protect. Your objective is simple, collect the egg. This you must do, for each egg, contains a clue without which you cannot hope to proceed to the next task. Any questions?"
"Very well. Good luck champions. Mis McKinnon the sound of the cannon-" Dumbledore says.
The cannon's thunderous roar echoes loudly through the tent, causing Maggie's heart to race as she slowly approaches the flaps of the tent. She exchanges a worried glance with Harry, who was anxiously watching from the sidelines. With shaky determination, Maggie makes her way to the tent exit, clutching her wand tightly.
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As she steps outside, a deafening chorus of cheers erupted from the crowd. The dragon looms before her, its eyes locked on her every move. Maggie takes a deep breath, steeling herself for evading a dragon. With a burst of adrenaline, she sprints forward, narrowly avoiding the searing jet of flames that shot toward her. With a leap, she takes cover behind a rock, her hands scraping against the rock.
Surveying the small arena, Maggie's eyes lock onto a massive boulder at the arena's far end. She raises her wand and shouts, "BOMBARDA!" The rock explodes into fragments, sending shards flying in all directions. The dragon's head snaps toward the commotion, momentarily distracted.
Seizing the opportunity, Maggie sprints forward, her heart pounding with each step. The golden egg glints enticingly in the sunlight, beckoning her. The crowd cheers her on, their voices urging her toward victory.
"GO MAGGIE!"
The dragon, realizing it had been tricked, whips around, its fiery gaze now fixed on Maggie. With a swift and powerful swipe of its tail, Maggie was sent tumbling through the air, crashing onto the rocky surface with a painful thud. Gasping for breath, she summons every ounce of her strength and pushes her wand forward.
"SOMNUS!" She yells.
A brilliant blue light shoots forth from her wand, tearing through the air. The spell strikes true, hitting the dragon squarely in the chest. Maggie watches as the beast reared its head, staggering toward her before collapsing to the ground, its eyes closed.
Maggie rolls away from the dragon's descending head, wincing in pain as she does. Ignoring her injuries, she scrambles to her feet and dashed toward the golden egg, her heart still pounding. She snatches it up, feeling the searing pain in her shoulder and neck as the adrenaline begins to fade.
Looking down, she sees her robes smoldering and quickly pats down the flames, gritting her teeth as she breathes through the intense pain.
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Maggie hisses in pain as Madam Pomfrey drips potion onto her burnt skin. Her hand was gripping the sheets so tightly that her knuckles were white.
"Honestly," The woman mutters angrily. "Dementors last year, dragons this year? I do not get paid enough to deal with this"
"And Quidditch injuries," Maggie adds.
"Quite right Miss McKinnon," Madam Pomfrey nods. "You have shattered the bones in your wrist. You didn't feel it because of the severity of the burns, skelegrow will help in the repairing but you will have to wear a cast for a couple of days"
"Can I pick the colour?" Maggie asks, a grin on her face.
"Yes, you can,"
"Pink please," Maggie beams.
"So much like your mother," The woman smiles at Maggie. "It was Marlene's favourite colour"
Maggie offers the woman a smile. A genuine one, not one forced for press conferences or to appear as the Darling of the Ministry. Just Maggie smiling, reminiscing about the mother she never got the chance to know.