How soon things can change for people!
When Harry had returned to the Lion's Wing and to his Queen, he had felt like a great burden had been lifted from his mind, but he was still slightly curious and even more unnerved by the effects that his future would have on him and Hermione. Sleeping pretty well through the night, Harry awoke the next morning to his favourite view: a head of bushy brown hair resting on his chest, her hand clenched into a fist as she seemed content to massage the area around his heart.
Such delights and splendour, however, would not last: no sooner had Harry and Hermione entered the Great Hall than Harry found himself entering a silence-filled scenario that would have put a wake to shame. Nearly forty percent of the heads in Hogwarts student body were turned in their direction and, as much as he wanted to think otherwise, Harry had a sneaking feeling that this was just the beginning.
He was proved right not two days later when, after two days of sharp glares and fierce whispers from the students, Harry entered the Great Hall for dinner and found the smug, cocky face of Ron Weasley brandishing what appeared to be a badge that read SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY, before it changed to another slogan that read POTTER STINKS.
Rather than rise to the occasion, Harry heaved a sigh as he asked, "So Weasley, just how much did you try to bribe Ravenclaw House to do this for you?"
"Only telling the truth Potter," sneered Ron, Harry clenching his fist as he saw the cockiness in the boy's voice: he actually thought he'd won.
"Well your truth is…" before he could continue, Harry actually chuckled before he lifted the sleeve of his robe to his nose and sniffed, a look of shame and disgruntled emotion crossing his face as he added, "Pretty true; I guess I should learn to wash my robe before I wear it: in any event, you continue to slander my name and I will not hesitate to bring you down: I heard the Banshee loves her job as a dragon shit shoveller."
Ron's fist – as usual – came before his wand, but Harry only yawned as he lifted his own hand, caught the fist and, without even trying to move, swept Ron aside with a powerful blast of wind. As Ron sprawled to the ground, Harry looked around the Great Hall before he addressed the schools, "And to whoever else is responsible for these badges, you should call a retraction and cease any hostility towards my betrothed and me; we swore on the power of my family's sword that we did not cheat or willingly enter this Tournament and, though we are betrothed, both Hermione and I are keeping our game plans from one another."
"Very true Sir Potter," McGonagall added, rising from her seat as she explained, "Mr Weasley, it seems that you're setting records for detentions in this school as they now add up to Christmas and beyond; so, to save face, I think your punishment should be a week's detention with Professor Potter where you must do as she says."
'Uh oh,' chorused Harry and Hermione, their mental voices laced with amusement.
Minerva then addressed the hall, "And let me remind you that I was there when Sir Potter and Lady Potter swore their oaths, and willingly, I may add: such bravery is commended here at Hogwarts and, should this bigotry against them continue, the parties responsible will be put through some of the worst punishments imaginable."
Harry thanked her as he sat down with the Gryffindors, Hermione remaining ever true and ever proud at his side…
HPHG
Three days after Minerva's warning, Harry and Hermione were down in Potions with Severus when a knock came at the door to the classroom: when Severus gave permission to enter, Harry felt a modicum of surprise when he saw Colin Creevey walk in, before he eeped at Snape's glare. "Sorry for disturbing you Professor Snape, but I was sent by the Headmistress to bring Harry and Hermione for a pre-task ceremony."
"Very well," Severus nodded, looking to the two aforementioned lions as he added, "Harry, you and Hermione are excused from the homework to concentrate on the Tournament: I trust you shall not abuse this privilege?"
"No Professor," Harry replied, rising with his queen and, following Colin, made his way up to a classroom on the fifth floor; once inside, Harry was surprised to find not only Minerva, but Madame Maxime, who seemed to be escorting Fleur, as well as High Master Karkaroff who was escorting Viktor and finally Professor Dumbledore. Cedric was standing with Minerva and Harry also noticed Sebastian waiting with them: no doubt the private mentor of the Lord of Hogwarts had been informed along with Minerva.
There was also, much to Harry's surprise, the company of Mr Ollivander, who smiled when he saw Harry enter, along with Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman; finally, there was a photographer and a familiar face in Rita Skeeter. Remembering what Arthur had said about the woman, Harry straightened his posture before he moved to Sebastian's side, not failing to notice the glare he was getting from Dumbledore as he did so.
"Excellent," Bagman announced, "Now that our five champions are here, we can begin: now, you are here for a simple test of your wands and to see whether they are compatible with the trials ahead; then you will have an interview with Miss Skeeter here and an opportunity for Champions' Photos that will appear in the Prophet in the future. Now, there is one last piece of information that I wish to give to you and it is this: the first task shall take place in less than three weeks on November 24th in a specially crafted environment just outside the school. For the sake of equality, we have decided that all five champions are forbidden to know of the challenge's contents as…"
"May I speak up here Mr Bagman?" asked Harry suddenly, his eyes aware of Skeeter seemingly writing almost instantly: if she was as bad as he suspected, he'd have to silence her.
"Of course Sir Potter," replied Ludo, "What do you wish to say?"
"These trials," Harry explained, "They are used to test the mettle of students of age and are also highly dangerous as Headmistress McGonagall told us all; therefore, wouldn't it be fairer to inform us of these dangers beforehand so we have the proper skills? Otherwise it would be like throwing an amateur gladiator into the lion's pit!"
"I agree with Sir Potter," Madame Maxime exclaimed, much to Harry's surprise, "While I do not question ze integrity of ze Knight, it iz true zat our Champions should be aware of ze trials zey are about to face."
"I…see," Bagman sighed, meeting Harry's gaze as he continued, "But, Sir Potter, how would it test your mettle if…"
"Mr Bagman," Harry suddenly growled, "I may be forced to participate in this tournament, but as every Hogwarts representative here knows, I will sooner face the jaws of death again before I put my betrothed in danger: now, I do not want to have to go over your head on this, so, sir, I will ask once again: what is the First Task?"
"Harry my boy," Dumbledore began, but stopped when Excalibur and Nimueh were suddenly revealed to the assembled party.
"Shut it Dumbledore," Harry snarled, "It's probably your fault I'm like this anyway: so, keep it shut or I'll shut it for you! Mr Bagman, I'm going to count to three and if you haven't told us, then I will be forced to take actions that I don't wish to take: one…two…th…"
"DRAGONS!" Cried Ludo, gasping in fear as, with every number that Harry had counted, he had been glowing with bright light and magic that would put even the strongest Auror to shame: this was a young man who had openly challenged Fudge and his commands, not to mention seen to it that Dumbledore was no longer Head. "The first task is dragons: there will be five dragons, one for each of you, and they will be guarding a clue to the next task, which will be on February 24th; any form of magic or weaponry is welcome as long as you retrieve the task that is required. Without that clue, you cannot hope to progress to the next trial."
"Thank you," Harry sighed, now looking to Miss Skeeter as he added, "And as for you, I've heard of your reputation: sugar coat anything that I say to you and you will be out of a job faster than you can say Excalibur: am I clear?"
"Y-yes Sir Potter," Rita gasped, already ripping up her first draft of notes: against the kind of power that she had witnessed, she didn't really want to get in his way, not when he could do all that;
And so much more…
HPHG
Now that they knew what was going to be standing in their way – literally – the Holy Knights agreed to a ceasefire as they shared their research, but, like Harry and Hermione, kept their strategies to themselves: whenever he was planning his own task, Harry would close his mind to Hermione and practice like he had never done before. In his trainings, he focused on every aspect of his magic, from the elements to Illusionism and even handling Excalibur: he had a basic back-up that sounded a bit cheesy, but, if he was forced, then he would do it.
True; now that he knew that he would be facing a fully-grown dragon – a truth that Lily raged about for days on end when she found out – Harry was nervous and, more often than not, before they went to sleep at night, he and Hermione had to soothe the fears of the other as they shared their emotions for the task ahead. Remembering their little wager actually helped them concentrate on the task ahead: truth was that, if he was being honest with himself, Harry hoped Hermione would win the wager because he didn't wish to go into the final task, bring back Tom and come back only to find a real danger in his path.
So yes, if he was being honest with himself, Harry actually started to want to complete the bond and, when they did, he would make sure that Hermione knew just how much he cared for her; after all, without her, none of this – him as a Knight, let alone a King – would have been possible.
Pretty soon, Harry found himself laughing as November 24th came around and the tension in the air at Hogwarts was just as thick and palpable as it had been on the night of the Champions' Naming. After his little warning to the Dead Man Walking – a warning that hadn't gone heeded as Weasley's newly named bed in the Hospital Wing proved – the school had changed their tune and those that weren't happy that two underage champions were in the Tournament kept their thoughts to themselves.
More than anything, Harry and Hermione both felt like they would sooner tackle any other kind of danger rather than the one they were about to face; it didn't seem right that the Champions actually had to face a dragon for the sake of the Tournament, but, if Harry had learned anything, he had learned that life always loved throwing a wrench into the works.
After dinner, the five champions all made their way down to the stadium, a specially-built pen on the edge of the Forbidden Forest that Harry had also noticed was tended by a familiar red-haired Weasley otherwise known as Charlie. When they reached the Champions' tent, Harry and Hermione's faces turned into smiles when a nice surprise was revealed to them: Dan, Emma and Amelia were waiting just below the spectators stands and, as soon as he saw him, Harry half-expected Dan to hit him again. This time, he'd let him.
Approaching the two additional champions, Dan and Emma hugged their daughter and son-in-law close before Dan, who was holding Harry with such a strength that it showed more worry than rage, asked, "Nervous?"
"Truth?" Harry countered, then answered him, "I am, but I ask you not to worry Dan: I won't let anyone or anything stop me from protecting Hermione: she and I have been training night and day for this and we're both confidant in our abilities."
"I hope so," Dan sighed, before he looked to Amelia as he asked, "Our agreement?"
"Of course," Amelia replied, now stepping up to Harry as she added, "Harry, I have spoken with the judging panel and the heads of school and we have agreed that, after today, you and Hermione and the other champions will be given a two day resting period before returning to school. Now Dan and Emma have asked me to allow you to go home for those two days and, as Minister for Magic, I encourage and support their wishes."
"Thank you Amelia," Harry nodded, before he laughed as he added, "I'm actually glad you're here: I'll need someone to help keep Mum calm."
"We'll be sitting with Lily and Sirius," Emma then piped up, though Harry did notice the red in her eyes that showed she'd been crying, "Just promise that you'll come back to us Harry."
Hugging Emma warmly, Harry replied, "I promise Aunt Emma; I promise."
His use of her family title only made the Granger matriarch start crying again, before Dan smiled as he led her away with Amelia in tow, the Minister wishing the two champions good luck; once they were alone, Harry turned to Hermione before he asked, "Your…strategy: are you sure it will work?"
"Yes," Hermione answered him, now taking his hand as she leaned in close and kissed him on the lips as she asked, "Yours?"
"Do you really have to ask Mione?" asked Harry, "Just think of the wager as I've been doing and look forwards to those two days off."
"I will," Hermione replied, repeating her kiss before she walked into the champions' tent, Harry following moments later; inside the tent were Crouch, Bagman, McGonagall, Sebastian, Madame Maxime and Karkaroff, all of them with their champions – Seba was representing both Harry and Hermione – as Mr Bagman stepped up.
"Ah Sir Potter; there you are: right, Barty the bag." Turning to the other man, Ludo held out a violet-cloth bag that seemed to hiss and snap; from where he was standing, Harry felt his magic tingling as the raw bestial magic of the dragons they were to face matched his own. Bagman addressed the champions, "All right; in this bag are five miniature versions of the dragons out there, each one with a number: the number corresponds to the order in which you will enter the pit. Now, the task is this: each dragon guards a treasure: it was originally meant to be a golden egg, but due to unforeseen circumstances – Harry noticed he glanced in his direction as he said this – the goblins who forged the eggs were adamant at not being involved. So instead, the treasure is a gemstone that is held within the very heart of the nests."
"Nests?" asked Harry incredulously; he had researched dragons in depth and learned about them from the master himself in Merlin, "Mr Bagman, I'm not challenging you this time, but I want to know: we're to face nesting dragons?"
"That is correct Sir Potter," Bagman answered, "Now, why don't you pick first?"
Harry reached in, his hand curling around a small, but sharp figurine: pulling it out, he saw a silver-scaled dragon that he recognised all too well; Bagman's words confirmed it, "The Antarctic Silverback and the number is one: Sir Potter will be first."
'Silverback,' thought Harry, 'Just like Iris: does that mean I'll be facing a burning frost as well? Shit, I may have to rethink my strategy.'
The other champions seemed to share his thoughts about the dragon they received: Krum gained the Welsh Green, Fleur was to face the Chinese Fireball, Cedric gained the opponent of the Swedish Short-Snout and Hermione had the bad luck of drawing the Hungarian Horntail: on its own, the Horntail was quite possibly the most fierce of dragons, but it was only outmatched by – yep, you guessed it – the Silverback Dragons.
"And there we have the order," Bagman explained, "First will be Sir Potter, then Miss Delacour, followed by Mr Krum then Lady Potter and finally Mr Diggory: now, at the sound of the cannon…"
As if on cue, a cannon erupted and Harry, gulping hard, heard Bagman wish him luck before he stepped out into the pit: moving through the tunnel, Harry emerged in a rocky terrain with several large boulders and obstacles that appeared to be designed for obstruction and defensive purposes; as he steeled himself, he heard it: loud as thunder and deadly as the bite of the Basilisk. The roar of the Antarctic Silverback and it was coming from underneath his feet: even as he went to move, the ground trembled and Harry barely had time to leap out of the way before the ground exploded beneath him, revealing his enemy.
The first thing he took notice of was the fact that its scales weren't silver as he had seen, but a strong shade of ice blue that was close to white: it was almost 30ft in size and its wingspan was as large as twice Harry's height, the wings as bright and wind-inducing as its body. The head of the dragon was smooth in appearance, save for a pair of cold, murderous blue eyes that looked upon Harry with rage and defensive purpose; when it opened its jaws, the dragon let out a roar that shook the pit and the stadium around them.
'Wow,' Harry thought, looking to the Antarctic Silverback, a part of him noticing four sets of sharp claws that appeared to be stained by earth and blood, 'If it wasn't for the fact I've got to face her, I'd think her as beautiful as my Iris.'
Swooping down, the Silverback parted its jaws and Harry again ducked as two rows of sharp teeth missed his body by inches: realising that the kid gloves were off with this creature, Harry lifted his hand and summoned Excalibur, before he looked up to where the beast was flying. The first thing he'd have to do is ground the creature; tapping into his Parseltongue ability, he hissed, {Forgive me.}
Lifting Excalibur's blade, Harry tapped into his original bloodline of Thunder and aimed two bolts of white lightning at the tips of the dragon's arched wings; with a roar of pain, the great beast fell to the ground, its body quivering from an aftershock as it faced the enemy that dared to threaten its nest.
'There's a point,' thought Harry, looking around cautiously as he kept his blade trained on the dragon, 'Where is the nest?'
The Silverback appeared to roar at him again, its loud screech actually making the bones underneath Harry's skin tremble with a mix of ecstasy and fear: yes, he was afraid of the beast before him because he knew how dangerous it was supposed to be. However, any thoughts of 'supposed to be' were soon cut off when, as Harry moved from behind one of the obstructions, the Silverback opened her maw and Harry, out of instinct, lifted Excalibur just in time as a wave of white flame that was more like a stream of lightning erupted from the dragon's jaws. The white lightning onslaught came into contact with Excalibur's blade, the magical properties of the Holy Sword separating the stream as it surrounded Harry in magic, the King of Camelot grunting as the force of the power actually had his feet sliding beneath him.
'Merlin,' he gasped, 'She's a powerful one: I should never have forgotten that we were facing powerful creatures: okay…still no sign of the nest and this beast isn't going to halt this white lightning attack for a while, so I need to think.'
Even as he did, Harry reached into his magic and, again hissing for the beast to forgive what he was about to do to her, he concentrated on the fiery power of the dragon's blast and, with a cry, sliced Excalibur downwards, the sword now glowing with the same colour magic as the dragon's onslaught. When the two forces met, Harry called on his elemental lineage and transformed the flame from the dragon into ice, the maw of the beast now frozen open in a gesture that would have made an excellent water feature. Reaching into his magic, Harry leaped out from within the now frozen flame display and, keeping Excalibur at his side in case of battle, he approached the beautiful dragon's side and gently placed a hand on her frozen jaws.
"I'm sorry for this," he whispered, before he summoned what appeared to be tendrils from the ground, the thick stone of the pit now trapping the dragon in ropes of stone and what appeared to be steel, Harry now more grateful than ever for his training at the hands of the Lords of Nature. With the Silverback secured, the King of Camelot went back to basics; with his hand still on the dragon's head, he hissed at her, {Forgive me if I caused you harm beautiful Ice-Scales: I merely seek a treasure placed by those who brought you to my realm. Please tell me: where will I find this treasure?}
{M-My nest oh speaker of magic,} hissed the dragon, {You have power…and that sword; you are him, are you not? King of the Magical Realm?}
{I am the King of Camelot,} Harry answered her, {Where is your nest Ice-Scales: on my blade I vow that I shall free you from this magic once I have my item.}
{The burrow where I emerged,} the dragon gasped, {My nest is…is there; you are…a good soul Lord of Magic…it will serve you well.}
Thanking her, Harry moved over to the crater that the dragon had formed when she'd emerged from the earth; sure enough, at least six feet under where he was standing was a ring of iced stones and there, right in the heart of the nest, was a shining white diamond encased in what appeared to be a block of ice. Shaking his head, Harry lifted his hand and used the winds to lift the item from within the nest, being very careful not to harm the other eggs or any of the nest's features. Holding the diamond in his hand, Harry melted the ice with a simple flicker of flame and, keeping his word to the dragon, he unsealed her from the chains that bound her and the ice that trapped her.
Moving to the young human who had been merciful to her, the dragon bowed her head before she spoke to him, {I thank you King Silver-Eye; your honour to our kind shall be known for all time.}
{Thank you Mother Ice-Scales,} Harry returned, before he bent forwards and, petting the dragon's snout, placed a light kiss on her snout before he smiled at her and added, {Until we meet again.}
He left the pit to thunderous, disbelieving, but celebratory applause, all the while aware of the look of relief on the face of a certain Illusionism teacher and a certain Slytherin Head of House…
HPHG
Hermione, seeing Harry's return, ran into his arms and kissed him for all he was worth, the Lord of Hogwarts being very careful not to lose the diamond that he was holding. When they parted, she asked him, "Your plan worked?"
"Sadly not," Harry told her, "So I improvised: good luck against the Horntail."
Hermione thanked him as Harry allowed himself to be led aside by Sebastian and Madam Pomfrey, Hermione's eyes never leaving the treasure that was held by her boyfriend, a part of her now more curious than worried:
'What is the significance of the diamond and the second task?'
HPHG
After Viktor Krum had successfully managed to acquire his treasure, which Hermione noticed to be a blood ruby while Fleur's had been a sapphire, the Queen of Camelot steeled herself for facing her dragon; at the sound of the cannon, she emerged into the pit and, looking around warily, she saw the nest of the Horntail hidden in the shadows of the stadium. Looking around warily, Hermione pulled out her wand and, pointing it at the nest, she whispered, "Accio treasure."
Much to her surprise…it actually worked: a green emerald that was as big as Harry's fist flew to her hand; catching the emerald, Hermione held it up to stunned applause; however, as she turned away, there was a loud roar and the Hungarian Horntail, angry at her nest being approached and her being denied a meal, flew towards Hermione with such speed that, for a second, the Queen of Camelot felt true fear.
Hermione couldn't quite explain what happened next: all she could recall was a roar, a scream of what sounded like her name and then the soft, warm feel of fresh blood against her face; when her attention span caught up with her, Hermione gasped at what she saw in front of her.
Harry, wielding Excalibur and looking both angered and sorry for what he was doing, was standing before her, his stance as strong and unmoving as ever; the jaws of the Hungarian Horntail embedded deep in his left shoulder, blood rolling down his arm as he held Excalibur, Hermione then noticed, right up through the head of the beast.
'Sparky!' she cried, a silver eye now glancing in her direction before a voice whispered back to her.
'You win…'
Then, in front of three schools, two concerned parents and a Minister, the Arch-Knight of Camelot fell to his knees as the Hungarian Horntail fell to the floor…dead;
Harry, however, was not, but his blood still flowed freely, prompting Hermione to grab his arms and hold him close, her tears rolling down her cheeks as the staff and representatives gathered around them.
"HARRY!"