Who the Fuck Brings a Sword to a Dragon Fight? (And Wins)
The three schools watched with a collective held breadth as the youngest competitor of the Triwizard Tournament walked out into the arena, but Hermione and Ron were the worst off. Ron sat with Dean, far away from where Her lime was sitting with Ginny. The boy was glaring down at the black haired teen, anger and jealousy coiling inside of him, but even he had to admit that it was crazy for someone to put their name into the cup, espically after he’d seen the last three contestants. Ron didn’t know what plan Harry and Hermione had come up with, but he opted for his best friend’s sake that it was good one.
Hermione, on the other hand, was just as stressed as Ron was though neither knew that of the other. Harry had flat out refused to talk with her about what he would do for the task, saying that he already had a plan in mind. She just hoped that he truly did, because seeing him down there… even though she knew that Dumbledore wouldn’t let any of them die, Hermione was already mentally writing a eulogy. She hated herself for it, but it was true.
They all watched as the slight boy moved forwards, jumping from rock to rock with an ease that no one really knew that the boy had held until then. The teen hadn’t even drawn his wand or cast a spell yet, but still he was closer to the dragon than any of the other three constesnts had been at this point. More than one of the students screamed in fear as fire was shot at the boy by the dragon, but they all watched in amazement as Harry only fluidly avoided it.
And then there was a sword in his hand.
Looking back on it, no one knew where the sword came from, or where it went just after the task. It was as if it had just materialized before them all in the black haired boy’s hand. But they were all too caught up in the show of watching as Harry charged at the beast, sword in hand and smacked it neatly across the nose with the flat side of the blade, grabbing the golden egg as he did. With just as much skill as he had shown before, Harry ran from the arena, getting the best time and least injures out of everyone that had completed the task.
That night in the Gryffindor common room when asked where he had learned to move like that, Harry’s only reply was that he did a lot of physical training during the summer. No one could pry it for, him just heat the training was except that there was some extreme form of rock climbing involved.