Harry had almost forgotten about the Wand Weighing ceremony, in the face of potentially having to fight a dragon. Thus, when the article in the Prophet came out, it was a bit of a shock.
Somehow, despite Harry's total refusal to give Skeeter anything, she'd managed to make the article about him anyway. It continued over several pages, barely said anything about Fleur and Krum (and misspelled both their names when it did), and didn't mention Cedric at all. There was an enormous picture on the front page that had clearly been cropped from the photos taken of Harry and Cedric together; Cedric's arm was still around Harry's shoulders. The only saving grace was the 'Support Cedric Diggory' badge on his robes, which the picture version of Harry was delighting in changing to 'Potter Stinks' and back again every few seconds.
'Harry Potter: The Unexpected Champion
All of you will be familiar with the tragic tale of the Boy-Who-Lived. He saved us all and lost everything in the process, left orphaned and alone. Now he's grown and at Hogwarts, and appears to be making waves once more.'
Without any real quotes from Harry — though she'd thrown plenty in that Harry didn't recall ever saying in his life — she'd apparently interviewed several people about him. Harry almost choked on his pumpkin juice when he reached the part about his 'close companion and rumoured girlfriend, Hermione Granger'.
"Well, this is a load of bollocks," Cedric declared cheerfully from the Hufflepuff bench behind Harry, raising his wand and setting his issue of the Prophet on fire. "Alright there, Harry?"
After Harry's little stunt with the badge, Cedric and the other Hufflepuffs had warmed considerably to him. The Slytherins had stopped wearing the badges — apparently they weren't funny if Harry wasn't upset by them — but Harry still had his attached to his school bag. "Yeah, just wondering if it's possible to sue for this," Harry replied, frowning at the article. Surely he could get her for something — defamation of character, or slander, or misrepresentation of a minor. Surely it couldn't be legal to publish that amount of information about him. "You should ask Susan," Neville piped up from the other side of the table. "Her aunt's head of the DMLE, she'd probably know."
Harry kept that in mind, though he didn't run into Susan until his second class of the afternoon. That meant he spent the whole day listening to people — mostly Slytherins — quote their favourite parts of the article at him, laughing.
"Just ignore it, Harry," was Hermione's helpful advice, as if it was that simple. As if he should just let Skeeter write whatever she wanted about him. This wasn't some silly little school-wide paper, this was a national newspaper.
Finally they had Charms with Hufflepuff, and Harry made sure to get that early, grabbing Susan as soon as she and the other Hufflepuff girls rounded the corner. "Hi, can I ask you something?"
"Sure, what's up?" Susan was one of the few Hufflepuffs who hadn't hated him for even a little bit of time, and Harry would be forever grateful to her for it. Even now, Sally Anne Perks and Megan Jones were glaring at him over Susan's shoulder.
"I was wondering if you knew if it was possible for me to sue Rita Skeeter for that article in the Prophet. I didn't provide any of those quotes — you'll have several witnesses who can assure you that I didn't consent to any sort of interview — and half of what she's said is so wrong it's downright insulting, for me and for the other champions. Can I get her for slander, or something?"
Susan's brow furrowed. "Technically it would be libel, since it's written," she mused, thinking. "If you didn't consent, and your guardian didn't consent, then she shouldn't have even quoted you at all. I don't blame you for being furious, that whole article is just… ugh." She shuddered. "Tell you what, I'll write to Aunt Amelia before dinner and see if she can do anything. She knows loads of lawyers, and I bet there's plenty of them just waiting to give Rita Skeeter what for." She smiled, hitching her bag further up her shoulder as Flitwick opened the classroom door, beckoning them inside. "I'll take care of it, Harry. I'll let you know when I hear back."
"You're the best, Susan," Harry declared vehemently, hurrying to take a seat next to Neville before he could be forced to sit with Hermione. The Slytherins had teased her about the article, too, and she wasn't in the best of moods because of it. With any luck, Amelia Bones would get back to her niece before much more damage could be done.
.-.-.-.
The weekend before the task was a Hogsmeade weekend, and Harry let himself be dragged down to the village by Hermione and Neville. On the walk down, he glanced at the dark-skinned girl. "I'd have thought you'd be hanging out with Ron," he remarked cautiously. Since the article, she was somewhat reluctant to be seen with Harry, as people kept asking her if she was his girlfriend.
"Oh. Well." She began to blush. "I thought we might meet up with him at the Three Broomsticks."
Harry stared at her incredulously. "I'm not sitting with him." Ron was still making it very clear he thought Harry was some arrogant little glory hunter.
"Harry, please, this has gone on long enough."
"I'm not speaking to him until he stops being a dick," Harry retorted hotly. "If you want to sit with him, that's fine, but I'll be elsewhere." It was a miracle he wasn't wearing his invisibility cloak; the only reason he wasn't was because Hermione didn't know Neville knew about it. He really didn't want to deal with crowds today — he'd much rather be in the library researching dragons — but the pair of them had insisted (separately) that Harry needed to get out and have fun.
He didn't get as mobbed as he'd expected, once they reached the village. The rest of the school seemed to be following Cedric's lead on things, and since he was ignoring the Prophet article like the garbage it was, most of them were doing the same. They were all just eager for the tournament to start, now.
Neville dragged them both into Gladrags, insisting he needed to buy his gran a new hat for her upcoming birthday. Harry wandered the clothing racks absent-mindedly, occasionally picking out something. Since Ron had stopped talking to him, and since Neville had pointed out how much Harry was adjusting his own behaviour to avoid offending the redhead, Harry had started wearing more and more of his new clothes. And, to his surprise, he'd actually grown a couple of inches since last summer. He'd bought the clothes a little big, so most of them were still fine, but… he felt like spoiling himself. Picking out a couple of shirts and a new jumper, Harry eyed the casual robes curiously. Was it time he bought something a little more wizardly for everyday wear? The only wizarding clothes he had were his school robes and the cloak from Sirius and Remus. He examined a pair of slate blue robes, and Neville appeared at his side. "If you're going for robes, don't get Gladrags; the size-adjusting charms wear out way too quickly. Go for Malkin's or Twilfitt's, and get them tailored," he suggested. "Also, I think you'd look good in burgundy," he added, gesturing to the rack of soft wool jumpers Harry had just come from. Harry grinned.
"Thanks, Nev." He doubled back and picked up a burgundy jumper in his size.
"Is all that really necessary, Harry?" Hermione asked doubtfully, eyeing the bundle of clothing slung over his arm. Harry shrugged.
"I like them, so I'm gonna buy them."
"But you shouldn't be spending all your money so early in the term!" Hermione protested.
"Why not?" Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "I've got plenty more. Not like anyone else is using it for anything," he added sharply, still a little bitter about Dumbledore taking from his vaults.
"You've never been one to care about fashion, Harry."
He didn't understand why she was making such a big deal about him buying a couple of jumpers. "I've been going around in my cousin's hand-me-downs my whole life. I don't have to anymore. I don't want to."
Hermione didn't have anything to say to that, but the frown on her face made it clear she thought his spending was frivolous. Harry threw in an extra pair of trousers just to spite her, shoving it all in his bag on the way out. He caught sight of a familiar crocodile-skin handbag, and he threw himself around the corner suddenly. Skeeter walked right by him, chatting away to her photographer friend. "She must be staying in the village," he muttered to Neville and Hermione. "She'll be at the first task, then."
Harry vindictively hoped he had a case built up against her by then. Amelia Bones had written back promptly, assuring him that it was quite illegal to quote a minor without consent, and the entire article was easily a case of libel, but that Rita Skeeter was a tricky one and it might take some time. Harry was just happy to know there was a lawyer working on it.
They finally made it to the Three Broomsticks, where Harry put his foot down once more about sitting with Ron. "Harry, please," Hermione urged, but Harry wasn't having it.
"Hermione, maybe you should just let it go," Neville suggested gently.
"Oi, Harry!" Harry whipped around at the call, seeing Cedric sat in a booth with Cho Chang, who was waving at him. "Want to join us?"
Cedric was a lifesaver. "See you, Hermione. You coming, Nev?" He didn't wait for either response, heading straight for the booth. Luckily, Neville was right behind him.
"Hi, Harry," Cho greeted brightly. "And… Neville, right? Neville Longbottom?"'
"Yeah, it's nice to meet you," Neville returned.
"You looked like you could do with a bit of a save," Cho said by way of explanation. "Besides, Cedric keeps ditching me to go sit with you at lunch, so I thought I'd see what all the fuss was about." She gave him an impish wink, and Harry remembered the time last year where he'd briefly thought he had a crush on her.
"Well, here I am," he said dryly, holding his arms out as if to say 'ta da'. Cho laughed. "I'm gonna grab drinks, can I get you anything?"
He bought a round of butterbeers for all of them despite their protests, bringing them back to the table with barely a glance over to where Hermione was sat with a scowling Ron. He'd definitely made the better choice, he thought when he took his seat back in the booth. "So how's it going?" Cho asked, sipping at her drink. "Have you been driving yourself as mad as Ced trying to prepare for the first task?"
Harry shrugged. He hadn't told anyone of his suspicions about dragons yet, just in case he was wrong. "Kinda. I've been brushing up on spells I think I might need, but it's hard to prepare for the unknown. I figured I'd just wing it and hope for the best."
"Your approach to all of life's challenges, then," Neville cut in with a smirk. Harry rolled his eyes, but couldn't deny it. "I hope they don't keep all the tasks a mystery," Cedric mused. "That'd be a nightmare."
"I think it's just this one. Supposed to test our quick-thinking and all that." Considering the last time he'd faced an enormous bloodthirsty beast, he'd stabbed it with a sword he'd pulled out of the Sorting Hat, Harry didn't think his usual method would work for him. All the books on dragons said their eyes were their weakest spot, but he couldn't exactly call Fawkes and have him claw them out. Again.
They tried to keep conversation off the task, but everything turned back to it eventually. It was hard not to, when it was all Cedric and Harry could think about.
He looked up when the door opened, and a familiar imposing figure ducked into the bar. It was Hagrid, walking with… Professor Moody?
The professor's magical eye spun in its socket, landing quickly on Harry. He nudged Hagrid in the side, nodding in Harry's direction. Hagrid grinned, waving, and started trying to squeeze his way through the crowd. "Alright, you lot!" he greeted. If he was confused by Harry's choice in company, he didn't show it. "Harry, I was wonderin' if yeh'd come down to meet me tonigh'? I need yer 'elp with summat. After dark, if yeh don' mind." He gave Harry a pointed look. "It'll be cold, so bring yer cloak." The emphasis made it pretty clear to Harry what he was implying, but just made him look like a weirdo to the rest of the table.
"Uh, yeah, sure, Hagrid." What could he possibly want? Hagrid beamed, nodding.
"Great, I'll see yeh then. Enjoy yer afternoon." With that he went to go sit beside Moody at the bar, leaving Harry blinking after him in confusion.
"What was that about?" Cho asked, frowning. Harry shrugged.
"Not a clue." He'd find out tonight, he supposed.
.-.-.-.
Harry's first stop Sunday morning was the library, to scour all the books on dragons a second time. His little outing with Hagrid the night before had confirmed his fears, although at least now he knew he didn't have to fight or subdue the dragon. Just get past it.
Because that was so much easier.
It was pretty quiet in the library, as it often was on a Sunday morning. He wasn't entirely surprised to find Viktor Krum sat near Harry's usual table, a stack of books beside him. Harry gathered his own reading material, then approached quietly. "Mind if I join you?" he asked. Krum glanced up, then shrugged, gesturing to the empty seat.
He hadn't spoken much to the Durmstrang champion. They had eaten dinner together a few times, all four champions sitting together, but Krum had stayed mostly silent throughout. Still, he'd stood up for Harry against Skeeter, so that counted for something.
"Only a few more days," Harry murmured. Krum's dark eyes flicked up to him.
"Are you scared?" he asked, sounding more curious than taunting. Harry chuckled breathlessly.
"I think I'd be daft not to be, at least a little bit. You?"
"I haff learnt to ignore fear," Krum replied simply. "In quidditch, fear stops you winning."
"Your Wronski Feint at the cup was pretty fearless," Harry agreed. Krum raised an eyebrow.
"You vere there?"
"Yeah, you were brilliant! I play seeker as well," he added, blushing slightly. "For Gryffindor. Cedric is the Hufflepuff seeker, actually. Maybe it's a sign. We're all reckless and crazy, exactly what the Goblet is looking for." That actually drew a chuckle from the reserved Bulgarian wizard.
"I vonder if Fleur plays quidditch," he mused absently. "It vould be fun to all fly together sometime."
Harry took a moment to realise the international quidditch star had just invited him to fly with him, and almost had a small heart attack. "We'll have to ask," he said instead, trying to keep it cool. Krum hadn't bat an eyelash at him being Harry Potter. Harry refused to kick up a fuss about him in return. "Did you bring your broom with you, then?"
"I bring my broom everywhere," Krum assured. Harry hadn't seen him out flying; then again, he probably kept it secret, so he wasn't disturbed. If the hordes of fangirls got excited about watching him in the library — there were three around the corner, even now — they would lose their minds at watching him train for quidditch.
Bored of reading the same paragraph over and over in the hopes it might magically provide him with an answer, Harry let his gaze trail over to the books Krum had out. He froze. Several of them were about dragons. The ones that weren't were on eye-related hexes.
Krum knew about the dragons.
Harry shut his book quickly, straightening up. If Krum knew, and he knew, and Madam Maxime knew — which meant Fleur knew — then… Cedric was the only champion going in blind. Harry couldn't allow that. "I've got to go," he declared suddenly, grabbing his bag and getting to his feet. "I'll see you later, yeah?"
Krum only nodded tersely, going back to his reading, and Harry about sprinted from the library. "Point Me Cedric Diggory," he muttered with his wand out, hoping the older boy wasn't in his common room or somewhere else Harry couldn't get to.
He was in luck. The spell led him to the Transfiguration courtyard, where Cedric was lying on a bench with his head in Cho's lap and a book propped in front of him, surrounded by several other Hufflepuffs. He looked up when Harry came thundering towards him. "Harry? What's the matter?"
"Can I talk to you for a second? Privately?"
Cedric shot him a bewildered look, but stood up and followed Harry across the courtyard and out of earshot. "It's dragons," Harry told him urgently. Cedric's brow furrowed. "The first task. It's dragons. Krum knows and Fleur knows and I didn't want you to be the only one going in with no idea."
"How— Hagrid," Cedric realised, remembering the odd interaction the day before. "Harry… seriously?" He looked pale.
"Seriously," Harry confirmed grimly. "I'm not sure on the specifics, only that we have to get past it, I think. I know it's cutting it a little close to actually be helpful, but, well; it's a start."
"No, it's great," Cedric assured. "Thanks, Harry. I owe you one."
Harry waved him off, and the two parted ways once more, Cedric no doubt off to the library to do what Harry had just finished doing. As Harry walked away, he heard a different voice call his name; this one much less welcome. It was followed by the telltale sound of Moody's wooden leg on the flagstones. "That was a decent thing you did for Diggory there, Potter," he said gruffly.
"It's only fair," Harry replied, not sure how he felt about Moody eavesdropping on his private conversations. It was bad enough that Snape had done some snooping and confirmed that the eye could see through invisibility cloaks. "Come with me." It was snapped like an order but he had no grounds for it, and Harry shook his head.
"No thank you, sir; I said I'd meet Neville in the common room." A lie, but Moody didn't need to know that. Harry had no desire to be alone with anybody that Albus Dumbledore trusted.
"Potter!" Moody called, but Harry was already walking.
"Sorry, sir, I'm already late. Another time!" He turned the corner, and hurried for the stairs before Moody could chase after him.
Everybody knew about the dragons. Now Harry just had to figure out what to do about it.
.-.-.-.
Harry was dreaming.
He knew that, because while he was on his broom and wearing his Gryffindor quidditch uniform and flying with the rest of his team, the opposing team seemed to be made entirely of dragons. Huge, terrifying Hungarian Horntails, like he'd seen in the woods. It was also definitely a dream because Harry was playing chaser, the quaffle in his hands as he tried to fly past the dragons without getting set on fire, watching Viktor Krum do an effortless Wronski Feint a few feet away. He was so close, the goal was in sight, he just had to fly a little further and…
He woke up with a gasp, eyes snapping open. It took a minute for his heart rate to go down. Even when it did, his eyes were still wide.
Flying.
Could it work? He was only allowed a wand, but… he'd been getting pretty good at the Summoning charm over the summer. Snape always accused him of being a lazy teenager, so Harry had summoned more things just to be a brat. He was pretty confident he could summon his broom from Gryffindor Tower down to wherever the task was being held, as long as he left the dorm window open.
He relaxed into his mattress — at least, as much as he could knowing that in a little over twenty four hours he'd be facing a real live dragon. He had a plan. It wasn't the most foolproof plan in the world, but it was better than him trying to learn a Conjunctivitis curse strong enough to fell a dragon in a day. Neville looked over at him when he emerged from bed. "Alright there, Harry?"
"Yeah, actually," he admitted, grinning. "Think I've got it all figured out." Neville's eyebrows rose, surprised.
"The task? Really?" Harry nodded. Neville beamed. "Brilliant."
Hermione, on the other hand, was not so convinced. "How can you be so relaxed?" she hissed at him during Herbology, her own anxiety palpable. Harry shrugged.
"I know what I need to do. No point worrying about it any more," he replied. He'd told her about the dragons, only because she wouldn't stop pestering him about studying between classes to make sure he was properly prepared. He appreciated the thought, but why couldn't she believe him when he said he had it under control?
She looked at him like he was mad. "You're going to get yourself killed!"
"It'll be alright," he insisted optimistically.
Now that the task was almost out of the way, he had some other things to be worrying about.
.-.-.
Harry skived off Divination, pretty sure that no one would begrudge him that with the task happening the next day. Instead he went down towards the Forbidden Forest, following the path he'd taken with Hagrid. The dragons were, if possible, even more terrifying in the daylight. Harry refused to let it get to him.
He glanced around the gathered dragon tamers until he saw the one with bright red hair, hanging out in front of one of the tents. Harry edged closer, and sent a pebble flying towards the man with a flick of his wand. It hit Charlie on the arm, and he cursed, whipping around. Harry whistled quietly, popping out from behind the trees just long enough to catch Charlie's attention. His eyes widened, and he hurried forwards. "Harry!" he whispered, wrapping the teen in a quick hug, then ushering him further into the trees before they were seen. "Shouldn't you be in class?"
"It's only Divination," Harry dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I came to talk to you."
"Calling in that favour?" Charlie presumed, glancing back at the dragons. Harry shook his head.
"Nah, I've sorted that. This is about the letter I sent you the other week." That got Charlie's attention. To Harry's surprise, the redhead put up several privacy charms, then leaned back against a tree.
"What sort of trouble have you got yourself into now, Potter?" he asked, his tone fondly resigned.
"Did Bill talk to you about the letter I sent him?" Charlie nodded. "Good. See, when I was in Diagon the summer before last year — Ron told you about that, right? Blew up my aunt?" Again, Charlie nodded, grinning faintly. "Right, yeah, well when I was there, I went to Gringotts, and something a bit strange happened."
He told Charlie what Gorrak and Farlig had found, watching the redhead's jaw drop.
"Bill wondered if it was something like that," he admitted when Harry was done. "He said Gorrak only gets called in for really high-profile cases, inheritance theft and magic tampering and the like. And when he spoke to him, asked him about you, well; Gorrak didn't say anything, but I don't think he had to." Charlie ran a hand through his hair. "Shite, Harry. And you've been dealing with this alone ever since?"
"Not completely alone, but that's a whole other story that'll take too long to tell you now." Charlie had already been gone for a little while, his coworkers would eventually wonder where he was. "But safe to say, I don't trust Dumbledore anymore. And…" Here came the hard part. "Recently Gorrak sent me a list of withdrawals from my vault over the years, to see if Dumbledore had taken anything. He had, and I'll deal with that eventually, but… Charlie, your mum took money out, too. Way more than she could've needed to buy my school things for me."
That threw Charlie for a loop. He slumped against the tree, blue eyes staring at Harry pleadingly. "Mum? Really?" Harry wished he could tell the man otherwise, but he merely shook his head.
"I don't know if Dumbledore told her to do it, or she just thought she'd go for it since I wouldn't notice a few extra galleons missing here or there, but… she did it. I didn't want to believe it either."
"It's been hard, raising seven kids on Dad's salary," Charlie said with a sigh. "But to think she'd stoop that low…"
"I'm sorry," Harry started, but Charlie cut him off.
"Don't, it's not your fault. She's an adult, and she makes her own choices. I just… fuck." He looked like his entire worldview had been rocked. Harry guiltily wondered if he shouldn't have kept quiet. "If my family have done you wrong, then I swear on the Weasley name I will make it up to you," Charlie vowed, his words thick with magic. Harry looked up in surprise. Charlie winked. "Heir Weasley, at your service. Bill's taking the Prewett seat."
"Well met, Heir Weasley," Harry responded automatically. "Who has the seats now?"
"Dad, but he tends to just give his voting power to Dumbledore. Politics confuse him," Charlie said, grimacing. "It's one of the reasons Bill and I are thinking about coming home, properly. We want to take our seats; you're not the only one who's getting a little suspicious about the way Dumbledore runs things. After this, I definitely don't want him using my family votes any longer than he has to. We haven't spoken to Dad about it yet," he added, "but we were going to soon. I'll talk to Bill about what you've told me — if that's alright with you — and if he's got any ideas for how to help, he'll get in touch."
"Yeah, I was hoping you'd tell him," Harry agreed. "I wanted to, but I can't exactly trust it all in a letter." It was a weight off his shoulders knowing he had two more people on his side. "I'm going to tell the twins, too. Unless you think I shouldn't?"
"They'll be good allies, and they're definitely not on Dumbledore's side," Charlie assured him. He glanced back at the dragons, which were beginning to get rowdy again. "Look, Harry, I should get back to work. But you've given me a hell of a lot to think about. I'll talk to Bill, and we'll be in touch." He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You sure you don't need any help with the task tomorrow?"
"No, I've got it, but thanks." Harry hesitated for a second, but it was long enough for Charlie to pick up on it, and the redhead pulled him into another hug.
"Good luck tomorrow, Harry. I'll be cheering you on." Charlie grinned, cheeks dimpling. Harry wondered if he'd been a bit hasty in telling George he didn't fancy any of his brothers.
Charlie dropped the privacy wards and strolled back out into the clearing as if he'd never been gone, and Harry watched the dragons for a few minutes more before hurrying back up to the castle. Two more players on the board.
.-.-.-.
At dinner that night, a scrap of parchment found its way onto Harry's plate, and he grabbed it before anyone but Neville could see. Transfiguration room. Curfew. The handwriting was familiar. He glanced across at the Slytherin table, and nodded.
"Is it him?" Neville asked under his breath. Harry hummed quietly in confirmation, burning the note with the tip of his wand.
Since Neville was in the know and very few other people were actively talking to him, it was easy for Harry to disappear right before curfew, keeping the map in hand as he crept through the corridors under the invisibility cloak. Moody was in his office, and Harry hoped it stayed that way.
He arrived first, but didn't have to wait long for Draco. The blond hadn't bothered bringing cards this time. He looked anxious.
"Do you have any idea what you're getting into tomorrow?" Draco asked. Harry grinned at him.
"I do, actually. It's going to be great." If he didn't die. He was pretty sure he could do it and not die. Like, at least seventy percent sure.
Draco was not amused. "Will Prof— Remus be there?" Draco still struggled to call the werewolf by his first name. Harry shook his head.
"We don't want Dumbledore to know that I'm still in contact with him," he said. "And they don't want him knowing they're in touch with each other." Dumbledore didn't like it when any adult got too close to Harry — except Mrs Weasley. That there should've been Harry's first sign that something wasn't right. "I promised to call him and Sirius tomorrow night, if I can."
"If you're not dead, you mean," Draco snapped.
"If I'm not too busy celebrating," Harry corrected, smiling. "Relax, will you? I've got it handled. I've done worse, you know I have. I'll be fine."
"Promise me you won't do anything stupid and Gryffindor." Draco's voice was quiet, raw in a way that made Harry's chest clench. The dark-haired boy moved closer, offering a hesitantly apologetic smile.
"Everything I do is stupid and Gryffindor. I can't promise that." That drew a faint laugh from the Slytherin. Draco placed both hands on Harry's shoulders, meeting his gaze square on.
"Then just promise me you'll do your best to just get through this task alive."
Harry stared into silver-grey eyes, losing his breath for a minute. "I promise," he whispered, once he was capable of words. It would be so easy to just lean forward, to bridge the gap between them and press their lips together. But he couldn't. His friendship with Draco was still so tentative in many ways, he didn't want to risk screwing it up with his stupid feelings. He pulled away, grinning once more. "I'm gonna put on one hell of a show, though, you can count on that!"
Draco looked at him, blinking away a look Harry couldn't place and gaining a resigned expression. "It's going to give me a heart attack, isn't it?" he asked flatly. Harry just laughed.
.-.-.
It all went by so fast.
Walking down to the tent, picking their dragons out, avoiding Bagman when the man tried to speak to him privately; before Harry knew it, he was facing a dragon with just his wand in his hand. "Accio Firebolt!" He'd spelled open the dorm window to make sure nothing would be in his way, and to his great relief, the broom came zooming across the lawn towards him. Then he was off.
He didn't do much thinking until he was back on the ground, his brain hitting flight-mode and going entirely off of instinct. When he landed, he could see Charlie Weasley amongst the dragon tamers, punching the air in delight. Draco up in the stands, looking even paler than usual but with wonder in his eyes. Ron looking begrudgingly impressed, still scowling, while Neville and Hermione cheered beside him.
He could see McGonagall walking towards him, smiling. "Very well done, Potter! Excellent flying! Now off to the First Aid tent with you." It was then that Harry noticed he was bleeding from a gash in his shoulder, and he grimaced, heading off towards Madam Pomfrey. Cedric was sat there with burn paste slathered all over his face and chest, but Fleur and Krum looked alright, sitting drinking hot chocolate. Madam Pomfrey cast a quick spell on his shoulder, telling him to sit tight until it healed completely. "That vas some very impressive flying," Krum said with a soft smile. Harry goggled at him. Viktor Krum just complimented his flying skills.
Before Harry could gather his brains up enough to ask the others what they had done, he was called out to receive his score. 40 out of 50. Not bad at all. "You're tied for first place!" It was Charlie, running up to barrel him in a hug so tight Harry's feet left the ground. Harry was glad Pomfrey had healed his shoulder already. "You and Krum. Bloody hell, Harry, that was amazing! I've got to go, we've got to move the dragons, but really well done! I'll see you soon, yeah? Oh, and they need you back in the champions' tent, Bagman said," he added belatedly, ruffling Harry's hair before running off again. Harry saw Neville waiting for him, but he shook his head, jerking a thumb towards the tent. He'd see his friend back up at the common room.
The other three champions were already there when Harry arrived, and so was Bagman. They listened while the man told them the egg was their clue, and Harry was relieved the next task wasn't until the end of February. Three whole months to figure it out, and get on with other things.
Everyone had left by the time Bagman let them go, so the four champions started walking back towards the castle together. "So what did the three of you end up doing?" Harry asked curiously.
They each regaled him with their own experiences with their dragons, stopping on the lawn near the lake. Neither Fleur nor Krum seemed to want to go back to their respective lodgings just yet. Harry didn't really blame them. He knew there would be a party up at Gryffindor Tower, and he was exhausted just thinking about it.
There was a beat of silence, and Harry laughed, shaking his head. "This is mad, isn't it? This competition. We just faced dragons."
Fleur laughed as well. "I knew eet would be difficult, but I did not expect zat!" she agreed. "I am vairy eempressed, 'Arry. I worried for you when I found out about ze dragons, but you did vairy well for someone so young."
"I, uh, had a bit of a heads up about them. I had time to prepare," Harry admitted, wondering if the others would confess the same. To his surprise, they did.
"Look, forgive me if this sounds crazy, but even when all four of us knew what was happening we still almost died a few times," Cedric said. "I know it's supposed to be a competition and all, but… I like you. I don't want to see any of you dead. So call me a Hufflepuff if you will, but I say we should stick together on this. The competition is supposed to be about international cooperation, right? I'm not saying we need to work on our solutions together, but we could at least keep each other updated about the clues, and offer help if needed. The people running this tournament are insane. They sent a fourteen year-old alone against a full-grown nesting mother dragon."
"You haff a point, Diggory," Krum said slowly. "ve all knew, and yet ve all came up vith different solutions. Perhaps if ve vork together, ve can survive this and still put on a show."
"I'm Cedric," Cedric said, holding out a hand. "To my friends, at least."
Krum eyed him for a minute, then shook it firmly. "Then I am Viktor, to all of you."
"So we're doing this, then?" Harry confirmed. "Together? Fuck what the judges say about competition?"
"Zey broke ze rules by making you compete," Fleur agreed, determination in her eyes. "We can break ze rules by 'elping each uzzer survive eet."
"That's settled, then," Cedric said, looking relieved. "We should all get back, I'm sure there's lots of celebrating to be done. But… meet in a week or so to see how everyone's doing on the egg?"
They agreed and parted ways, Harry and Cedric walking up to the castle together.
"That could've gone poorly," Harry commented. Cedric shrugged.
"They're reasonable people, and I don't think any of us expected the tasks to be quite that serious. Not when they said they'd changed things to try and lower the death toll. Any one of us could've been fried to a crisp today. It's like Fleur said; they want us to play by the rules, but we haven't been since your name came out of the Goblet. If we're all helping each other, we're all on the same level; if I win, I'd much rather I did so fairly, and made friends out of the whole thing." He paused, realising how that sounded. "Merlin, I'm such a Hufflepuff."
Harry laughed. "Yeah, but it's alright. We can't all be reckless Gryffindors." He winked, starting up the stairs. "Have a good night, Cedric."
.-.
As expected, a party was raging in Gryffindor Tower. Harry made a good effort to get in the spirit of it, but after the adrenaline rush of flying against a dragon, he mostly just wanted to sleep.
"That was amazing!" the twins exclaimed, letting him down off their shoulders after a victory lap of the common room. "So wicked!"
"It really was brilliant, Harry," Neville agreed, beaming. Harry grinned.
"I was pretty good, wasn't I?"
"No need to start bragging about it." Ron's venomous voice deflated Harry's happy bubble, and the dark-haired boy glared.
"No one invited you to this party, Ron," he bit out. Harry's success just seemed to have affirmed the redhead's views that he was a glory-hunter.
"Go away, Ronnikins," Fred urged, smiling viciously at his brother. "Or you'll see what some of our untested sweets can do." Having already seen several people turn into canaries and other animals, Ron gulped, slinking away into the crowd. Harry caught sight of Hermione crossing the common room to talk to him, but ignored it. If she still wanted to be friends with Ron, that was her choice.
"So what's in the egg, Harry?" George asked, taking the hefty golden egg from his hands.
"The clue for the second task, apparently." Harry took the egg back, running his fingers over it.
"Open it!" several people in the crowd urged, including Neville. Harry grinned. Digging his nails into the groove, he wrenched it open.
…And immediately shut it again. As soon as the egg was open, an awful screeching wail pierced the room, making several people cover their ears. "What the fuck was that?" Fred muttered, wincing.
"No idea," Harry replied, ears still ringing. "But it can't be good."
How the hell was that supposed to be a clue?