The First Task
“Cedric!” It was early morning, Harry was still trying to blink the sleep from his eyes, but he knew he had to warn Cedric about the dragons. It had been hard to get around his crowd of friends but now he’d found him headed to the Prefect’s bathroom on the map and, after chasing over towards the door, had simply waited for him to show up. And now he has.
“Cedric, I have to talk with you!” Cedric, who was still shaking his hands dry, looked around and spotted the boy near him and started to smile saying, “Harry, I’ve been meaning to try to talk to you. Listen--”
“Dragons.” Cedric paused, brow creasing. “What?” Harry swallowed hard, looking around once, before leaning in and saying, “The First Task is dragons.”
Cedric seemed to have been slapped across the face with the truth Harry revealed to him, staring wide eyed and dumbfounded at the younger boy. “What…” “Dragons. They’ve got one for each of us, and we’ve got to get past them.” A panic Harry recognized as his own and Draco’s flashed across Cedric’s eyes.
“Wh--Why… Why are you telling me this?” He stuttered, and Harry, biting his lip, looked around once more before starting to back away as he saw a Professor coming their way.
“It’s only fair right? Everyone else knows…” He turned then, started to dash away to class, knowing Cedric would just continue to keep him there out of stunment. “Good luck!” He called over his shoulder, and that was that.
-*-*-*-
Lunch at the Slytherin table today, and Harry usually never enjoyed it but now there was a special type of disenjoyment to his mood. The kind that made his stomach turn. The kind that made him feel physically ill. He could be--the fact that Draco had spent a large amount of Transfiguration class in the bathroom certainly didn’t make him think that getting ill wasn’t uncommon for the Champions.
Speaking of…
Just as Harry was about to turn to the blonde beside him and review their plan, he spotted Professor McGonagall hurrying over to him across the Hall, coming straight from the Professor’s table. As she grew closer, he bumped Draco’s shoulder and the boy looked up from the book on human-to-animal transfigurations to see her, instantly shutting it and straightening. She grew even closer, and lots of people started to notice, craning their necks to get a look at the boys.
“Potter, Malfoy, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now… You have to get ready for the First Task.”
“Okay.” Harry said as he and Draco rose immediately, forks falling to their still empty plates with a clatter. They then left the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall, who didn’t really seem a lot like herself, much like how Draco too was stumbling with his head low instead of his usual proud saunter. And Harry himself noticed how he dragged his feet a bit. They all clearly weren’t doing well this morning.
As they walked down the stone steps into the cold November afternoon, she put a hand on each of their shoulders.
“Now, don’t panic,” She said to the two, as they turned to look up at her and she looked at them, showing much more concern than Dumbledore had cared to spare in the Forbidden Forest all those weeks ago. “Just keep a cool head… We’ve got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand… The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you… Are you two all right? Do you have a plan ready?”
The boys looked at each other once and nodded. “We do.” Draco said, as Harry added, “And we are. Alright, I mean.” To which Draco side eyed him in a ‘keep telling yourself that’ way.
It didn’t help that McGonagall didn’t look as if she believed him in the slightest, but she did give a thin lipped smile, and nodded to the Forest. “Let’s keep moving then.” And she began to lead them toward the place where the dragons had been, around the edge of the forest, but when they approached the clump of trees they had last hid behind to get a peak, Harry saw that blocking the dragons from view was a large tent, its entrance facing them.
“You’re to go in here with the other champion," The Professor said in, to Harry's surprise, a rather shaky voice, a great rarity for her. "And wait for your turns. Mr. Bagman is in there… he'll be telling you the--the procedure… Good luck.
"Thanks." The boys responded in unison, their voices distant and flat. McGonagall hesitated, but turned and left them then, and they headed inside the tent.
It was crowded, that much was clear, too many Champions all pacing or sitting in various spaces, the adults milling about and attempting to comfort their anxiety.
Fleur was sitting in a corner on a wooden stool, looking rather pale and clammy, instead of her usual composed and beautiful self. But, even worse, Tess was seated beside her and looked as if she might pass out at any minute, her head going this way and that as Fernando placed the floor in front of her, her eyes as wide as saucers beneath her glasses.
Viktor Krum looked particularly surlier than usual as he himself paced about the place, while Anya and Hugo were seated together on a bed holding hands, Karkaroff talking to them seriously on a stool and pretending not to notice.
And then there was Cedric, who was sitting smack dab in the middle of the tent, bouncing his knee and biting his nails in a clear fit of anxious nerves. When the boys entered, he gave Harry a small smile, and nodded towards Draco. They nodded back.
"Boys! Good-o! You're here!" Draco groaned as Harry looked around and spotted Bagman running over to them happily, as usual. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home." Harry wasn't sure how he could really try to do that with all the nerves and the fact that Ludo was practically manhandling them to get inside, but he let him, sitting himself down on a bed near Cedric and beside Draco.
"Well, now we're all here--time to fill you in!" Bagman declared while all the Champions suddenly turned to him as he stood at the entrance of the tent, facing them all. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag," He held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them, "From which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different--er--varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too… ah, yes… your task is to collect the golden egg."
Harry glanced around. Cedric had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then looked down at the wand in his hands. He looked slightly green. The others though, including Draco, hadn't had any reaction. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths; that was certainly how Harry felt.
Sure enough, in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking…
Completely oblivious to how the people they mocked felt inside the tent, trapped, alone, and petrified.
It felt like a second to Harry, but after about half an hour, Bagman was opening the sack, and gesturing for everyone around him to come closer.
"Ladies first," He said, offering it to Fleur and Tess. They glanced once at each other, then Fleur reached a shaking hand into the bag, and pulled out a tiny, beautiful, perfect model of a dragon - an Opaleye. It had the number four around its neck, and as the blonde pulled it out, she did so resignedly, showing no signs of surprise at there being a dragon in her palm.
The same held true for the others of Beauxbatons. Tess pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, with the number seven tied around its neck, while Fernando pulled out the Swedish Short-Snout, which turned out to be number one. Bagman then moved on to the Durmstrang kids, and Hugo practically lunged for the bag, dunking his hand in and taking out a slim, green one--Welsh Green--marked with a number two, which he seemed rather happy about. Anya followed soon after, taking out a Peruvian Vipertooth, which Bagman quickly panicked and stuffed into his robes as it tried to bite her. It was the number six. Finally, Krum picked out the Chinese Fireball, number three.
Next came the Hogwarts kids. Cedric pulled out the metallically scaled Hebridean Black, tagged the number five. Draco cursed under his breath, clearly knowing what dragon was left, though Harry did not. Which is why he volunteered to put his hand in and get it, before Bagman could even propose some sort of challenge for the two to choose who would get the very last one. Harry drew it out, confused by how it was quite bigger than the others, and heavier.
“Ooh…” Bagman said while Draco slumped beside Harry, eyes going vacant and hopeless. “You got the big one! Well, last but not least I guess.” He said, gesturing to the number ‘eight’ on the collar of the pale white, large creature. “That’ll be the Ukrainian Ironbelly.”
“Well, there you are!” Bagman continued. “You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I’m going to have to leave you in a moment, because I’m commentating. Mr. Escarra,” He nodded to Fernando. “You’re first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now… Harry… Could I have a quick word? Outside?”
The boy was too dazed to protest, but even if he hadn’t been, he would still have nodded and left the tent as, what reason did he have to protest? So he walked out the tent with Bagman, who led him straight out of Draco’s sight. Now the blonde boy stood alone and confused, all the other Champions having disbanded across the tent.
Images of the Ironbelly filled his mind. He’d seen one before. It guarded his family’s vaults, including his aunt’s. They were massive, and while slow, just their steps would be enough to kill. Especially if you were transfigured into a tiny little ferret, bug sized compared to the Ironbelly.
The truth was right there, staring into Draco’s soul with its blood red eyes of a dragon; they were already dead.
The whistle blew. Harry walked inside the tent. Fernando left it, striding out confidently, hand clenched around his wand, though the sweat on his brow and the manic gaze in his eyes revealed how he truly was feeling. Draco could only wish he had his strength as he took a second glance at his partner, then turned and went back to the bed they had previously sat on, laying down on it and staring up at the ceiling.
Harry attempted to walk over to him. “Draco--” The roar of the crowd outside cut him off as they all started to chant, “ESCARRA! ESCARRA! ESCARRA!” In an instant, Draco reached a hand forward and cried, “Bucket!” which Harry obliged to, scrambling for a bucket briefly before flinging it at the blonde, and turning away as he promptly puked. He felt like that too. Sitting in here, trapped, listening to the crowd as they cheered… It was much worse than he had imagined it would be.
Eventually Draco lifted his head, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and set the bucket down under the bed, nodding to Harry to show his thanks, before lying back down. Harry nodded back, then turned, and started to pace alongside Krum.
Ludo Bagman’s commentary reached their ears even clearer than the cheering of the crowd or roaring of the dragon, and everyone couldn’t help their minds wandering to form cruel images to match every shout. “Ooh, narrow miss there, very narrow.” “He’s taking risks, this one!” “Clever move--pity it didn’t work!”
And then, after about fifteen minutes, the crowd went wild.
Fernando had gotten past his dragon and captured the golden egg.
“Very good indeed!” Bagman shouted. “And now the marks from the judges!” He didn’t shout out the marks then, so Harry supposed the judges must’ve been holding them up to show the crowd. Didn’t help the Champions inside very much though, he supposed, that was the point.
“One down, seven to go!” Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. “And here comes Mr. Hugo Olsson now!”
Hugo strode out far too proudly, and Harry felt that he knew exactly who his least favorite Champion was now. Well, he looked back at the blonde laying on the bed, aside from Malfoy of course.
The same process started again… “Coming out hot this one!” Bagman shouted gleefully. “Now is that good strategy--yikes! There he goes, folks!”
This time was rather quick though. Soon Bagman yelled, “Good Lord! Lucky boy, that one!” After about five minutes, as the crowd erupted into applause and screams, and a pause passed as Hugo’s marks were shown, then more clapping, then, for the third time, the whistle.
“And here comes Mr. Krum!” Cried Bagman, as Krum stood up and walked out of the tent, head low, Anya wishing him luck before being left alone. As the crowd started their cheering process again, Harry turned towards Malfoy and shuffled his stool closer to him, leaning forward.
“Are you alright, there?” He whispered and Draco whispered back, “What’s it to you?” Harry blamed the icy tone on nerves, as he rolled his eyes and said, “Just making sure my teammate won’t blow this thing for us.” A long pause as Draco, quite uncharacteristically, didn’t even give a comeback. “Seriously, Malfoy… You alright?”
The crowd started to ‘boo’ outside as Bagman yelled out, “Not sure that’s how the game works but… Oh! He’s got the egg!” And then the crowd abruptly changed its mind and clapped.
“No.” Was all Draco said, giving a slight shake of his head. Harry nodded, understanding that the boy didn’t need him to press, as that’s how he felt right about now, as the whistle blew and Bagman shouted out, “Fleur Delacour, if you please!” The Veela stood up and looked not like herself at all as she stumbled for the tent flap, shaking from head to toe, pale as snow. She stepped out, and…
The crowd applauded. Harry bit his lip, and looked around, seeing that Cedric, Anya, and Tess were all who were left. And then it was him and Draco.
“We can re-think the plan if you’d like…” “It’s too late for that.” Draco sat up on the bed fast, looking over at the Gryffindor with his gray eyes narrowed and hands clenched on the sheets. “We already practiced it with the Chinese Firebolt--I practiced. I’ll just… Figure it out, alright?” Harry frowned deeply, brow furrowing in clear disapproval of Draco’s denial but decided to stay off the topic, turning in his stool and sighing as his whole body slumped.
Ten minutes later, Fleur had collected her egg. The whistle blew again, and Harry found himself springing to his feet and yelling, “Good luck!” at Cedric. The boy turned, nodded once, looking green, then stumbled out.
“Well at least we know we won’t be the only ones getting eaten alive.” Draco said before falling back against the pillows. Harry sent him a glare then stood, now pacing in a circle around his stool. Cedric went on for a particularly long time, but the minutes bled to seconds in his stressed out mind. He could have snapped his fingers in that moment and the whistle would be blowing again. Cedric made it in fifteen minutes, Anya in eight, and finally Tess was stepping out and Harry turned and grabbed Draco by the shoulder, yanking him to his feet.
“Okay, now you gotta pull yourself together, Malfoy. We’re next.” Draco pushed him off of him roughly yelling, “I know, I know!” Before adjusting his cloak and saying, “Are you… sure we can do this?” Harry’s eyes went wide, he hesitated for only a moment, before placing his hands on the blonde’s shoulders and saying, “Yes. I’m positive.”
“And in a remarkable turn of events it seems Tess Whitlock has gotten her egg in just under six minutes!”
“If we trust each other out there, the rest will follow. So just… trust me, okay. Even if you’re about to be stomped and I’m flying away on your Nimbus. I’ll come back, okay? I’ll come back for you.” There was a long pause as the two boys just stared at each other, both passing a million words between their eyes. Bagman blew his whistle. Draco nodded, then turned and stepped over to the tent.
“Scared, Malfoy?” Harry said playfully as he came to stand beside him, and grinned when he saw the tip of the blonde’s lips turn up in a smile. “You wish…” He whispered, and the two stepped out together.
Outside, the world was a hurricane, and the two boys, plus the Ironbelly, were at its center. The sound of the crowd's cheers was deafening, and only made the panic inside them worsen tremendously, as their friends and enemies in the stands began to chant, “POTTER AND MALFOY!” over and over and over and over…
There were hundreds of faces staring down at him from the stands, all eager to see what the youngest champions would do against… And there it was. With a great roar and giant steps that shook the Earth, the Ukrainian Ironbelly growled at them and flapped her wings from where she stood protectively over her clutch of eggs. Her evil, pure red eyes were upon them, and while Draco stood straight and tall, prepared for what the beast would look like, the sheer size of the creature made Harry’s knees nearly buckle and his stomach churn.
Thankfully, he wasn’t the first step of the plan. With a resolute voice and a straight arm, Draco raised his wand and shouted at the top of his lungs, “Accio Nimbus 2001!” Harry hardly registered his words or the fact that the blonde had turned to face him, now shouting that it was time for the transfiguration.
It was as if everything around him had been covered by some sort of shimmering, transparent barrier, as all of Harry’s surroundings seemed to swim strangely. But then he felt Draco’s hand on his arm, just as his hands had been on the blonde’s arms a moment ago, and was suddenly thrust back into the moment when he saw the earnest look in the boy's eyes.
Because then he remembered his promise, and knew then he couldn’t let the boy down.
“Get ready.” He said in a shaky voice but still as strong as he could, and Draco grinned, nodded, then stepped forward, dropping down on all fours in a pounce-like stance, as if ready to run a track marathon. Harry raised his wand, pointed it right at the back of his platinum head, then concentrated, clearing his mind of stress as best he could, focused the image in his mind (human-to-ferret, human-to-ferret, human-to-ferret…) and screamed at the top of his lungs, “FERRIFORS!”
Draco let out a loud and angry yell as he pushed himself off the ground, morphing into a little white ferret the size of his head mid-air before landing gracefully and bolted at full speed towards the dragon’s head, letting out a loud, high pitched squeal Harry assumed was a ferret’s ‘battle cry.’
And just as he had done that, he heard the sound of the broom coming up behind him, around the edge of the woods, soaring into the enclosure, and stopping dead in midair beside him, waiting for him to mount. Without a bit of hesitation, Harry lunged himself over the stick of wood and kicked off the ground, charging into the sky on the Nimbus, past the stands, past the roaring crowd and the loud Bagman, and into the blue paradise he loved so much.
Suddenly, he felt free. Light as a feather, even. At home in the clouds and like what still lay below him in the form of a dragon now stomping around and flapping its massive wings in a loud rage as Draco skittered along its nose and back, was just a dream. His fear was there too. Because he was where he belonged in the air, and here, as he closed his eyes…
He could just pretend this was another Quidditch match. The egg was the Snitch, and he was going to catch it. You just watch.
Harry turned the Nimbus around sharply, not letting himself get surprised by how different it was to pilot compared to his Firebolt, and instead focusing on the battle between the largest dragon and the tiny little ferret below. Draco was currently attempting to draw the dragon away from her eggs by running across the enclosure, and, as he watched this, Harry couldn’t help but smile.
Because that meant he had retained even a fraction of his prior human mind, which was what they had tried so hard to accomplish. This was the plan, and Draco was executing it near perfectly, and that gave Harry the hope that kept him diving forward and towards the now revealed eggs.
He pulled out the way just in time as the Ironbelly released a wave of fire at the white dot that was Draco climbing up the stands and her tail swung right where Harry would’ve been if he had been a second late. But it meant nothing. To him, the tail was just a bludger. Maybe even a rogue bludger. And he turned his head briefly to see Draco skittering across the ground, completely unharmed. All was well, time to try again.
“Great Scott, he can fly!” Yelled Bagman as the crowd shrieked and gasped, at the two narrow escapes. “A narrow escape for both members of this team. But they seem to have recovered quite quickly. Let’s see what Flying Potter and Ferret Malfoy will do next…”
Harry turned upward and soared higher and higher into the air, before sharply turning and beginning to spin in a circle, the Ironbelly turning its head upwards to watch, its head going in a circle with him--if he kept this up, it may start getting dizzy and let Draco…
Sure enough, the pale white ferret started to skitter up the dragons back during Harry's distraction, and as she filled her lungs with fire… Draco plunged his claws into one of her eyes and distracted her long enough to let him plunge his broom downwards towards the eggs once more. But no longer as she then swung one of her claws wildly, colliding with Harry’s whole body and sended him spinning into the stands.
He smacked into a flag draped across the side of one and fell long and hard onto the ground, the Nimbus landing beside him just as hard.
“Ooh! A hard landing for our Mr. Potter. But can his partner still manage to pull this off?”
The Ironbelly turned to Harry’s slumped form on the ground, and leaned back its head, sucking in a big breath and preparing fire in her throat. Draco, now forgotten on the stone, looked this way and that wildly and unsure of what to do, instead just screeching as loudly as he could at Harry’s body.
And, by some miracle, Harry’s hand flinched to his robes, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at the ferret scrambling across the ground towards him.
“Wingardium Leviosa.” He whispered as, all of a sudden, Draco raised through the air from the force of the spell, and was guided by Harry’s wand into the sky, distracting the dragon and causing its red eyes to follow him instead, trained and angry on its tiny little enemy that has made them half-blind.
Harry groaned, and forced himself to stand, picking up the broom and swinging one leg over it once more, breathing in slowly, then out, in immense pain but ignoring it as he bent over the broom, closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer to his teammate, before flicking his wand and sending the poor creature hurling towards the dragon’s face as he kicked off the ground.
He had a new plan, and no guarantees it would work or that Draco would know what to do now, but he did have a hope. A false hope. But still a hope, right?
He drew himself up in the air, paused only briefly, and glanced down. Sure enough, with his trained Seeker’s eyes, he could clearly see Draco clawing out the Ironbelly’s second eye, just what he wanted him to do. Now, it was time to try and distract the mother from her eggs and follow his scent alone, even if that meant flying into the air.
He began to fly one way, then the other, never near enough to make her breath fire, but still close enough for her to smell him and become threatened by him, and not know how to deal with so far away other than to fly, as she was blinded now and couldn’t make a direct shot with flames. Harry rose a few more feet in a taunting way, and gave a little smirk to himself as she responded with a roar of exasperation.
He was just an annoyance before, but now he was an irritation. “Come on…” Harry hissed, swerving tantalizingly above her, “Come and get me… You know you want too…” On her back, Draco skittered down, found a small weakness between the scales on her hind legs, and bit her as hard as he could with his pointed teeth. The dragon released a thunderous roar then, spreading her wings and kicking off the ground just like Harry had, jaws wide open and ready to catch her enemy.
But Harry was flying away before her feet even left the ground--diving down and down and down towards the eggs at max pace before swerving right above them and dropping an arm around the golden egg. And with a huge spurt of speed, he was off, soaring out over the stands, tucking the egg safely under the arm he had scooped it up with, and realizing, for the first time since hopping on Draco’s broom, that the crowd was cheering. Screaming and applauding at a volume that would rival even that of the Irish at the World Cup.
“Look at that!” Bagman howled against the crowd's roar. “Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this certainly is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy! But where is that little ferret?”
Harry paused in his victory flight at Bagman’s words, turning Draco’s broom sharply to get a look at the enclosure below and try to find where the white dot of Malfoy had vanished too. He nearly shouted a curse to himself when he saw the little ferret beginning to slide down the Ironbelly’s tail as it flew in a circle in anger, and instead turned the end of his broom back downwards and dived in sharply, ignoring the shouts of the Professor’s coming out below for him to stop.
He promised Malfoy he wouldn’t leave him, so he wasn’t going to leave him.
Instead he held out his other hand and shook on the broom just slightly with no hands balancing him to it as Draco’s tail fell into his palm, but quickly steadied himself after looping the ferret’s slim body around the back of his neck, and steered himself back down to the ground where Professor’s McGonagall, Moody, and Hagrid were waiting, big and exasperated smiles on each of their faces as they waved to him.
“That was excellent, Potter!” Cried Professor McGonagall with clear joy and pride in her voice as he slid off the Nimbus 2001 and ignored the adults, instead dropping Draco on the ground and pulling out his wand quickly, pointing it at him. “You’ll need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score… Both of you.” She added the last part almost as an afterthought as she watched Harry transfigure Draco back, and the blonde immediately collapsed on the ground, panting for air in bloody and torn robes. “Are you… are you quite alright, Mr. Malfoy?” Weakly, Draco nodded, giving her a thumbs up. “Quite.”
“Yeh did it, Harry!” Hagrid suddenly said hoarsely, bobbing over to the boy and hugging him so tight he swore his ribs were going to break. “Yeh did it! An’ agains’ the Ironbelly an’ all!” Harry winced against his strength but nodded and gasped for air as the half-giant set him back down on the ground. “Thanks, Hagrid…” He wheezed, before kneeling down and helping Malfoy stand.
“But I couldn’t have done it without my Ferret.” Draco turned to glare at him before howling as his neck cracked and McGonagall winced. “Yes… That was a very impressive spell on your part, Potter, but the body always gets a little sore and stiff for a while after one lasting that long.” Draco nodded, slowly so he wouldn’t hurt himself again, and raised an eyebrow at her. “Clearly, Professor.” He said dryly, then gestured a hand to the first aid tent. “Potter… Madam Pomfrey… Please.”
Harry nodded and started to walk them over there, giving one last smile at his Professor’s over his shoulder as they walked. He then turned back to the tent, which was perched between some trees beside the tent he had waited inside, and saw Madam Pomfrey standing at the mouth of it, looking worried.
“Dragons!” She said, in a disgusted tone, grabbing onto Draco and pulling him inside while waving a hand for Harry to follow. Inside, the tent was divided into nine cubicles, each with a Champion seated inside, none of them seeming to be badly injured, all sitting up. Harry highly doubted that his teammate would be one of those sitting, but he felt fine enough to be. Madam Pomfrey was quick to set Draco down and then make sure Harry sat as well, bustling between the two cubicles with medicines whilst examining their every bruise and scratch.
“Last year dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next?”
She glared at a small whisker that remained on Malfoy’s cheek before flicking her wand and making it shrink back into his skin. “And whose bright idea was it, to turn children into rodents! On purpose!” She bustled back over to Harry, examining his head which he only just realized felt like it was on fire. He must have banged it from his fall. “This is not a bad hit, Mr. Potter, but you are bleeding here. Did you even notice that?” She held up his arm in front of her, which he only just noticed was dripping with blood. “It’s quite shallow, but it’ll need cleaning before I heal it up. Seriously, what was Dumbledore thinking…” She left his cubicle and circled around to Draco’s.
“And you, boy, are very lucky to have him. Do you know how hard human-to-animal transfiguration is? Very difficult, Mr. Malfoy, very difficult. And all injuries there come back to your body here, as you can see, so, for you things will be much harder.” She took out a bottle of some purple liquid and began to dab it on seemingly every piece of skin that wasn’t covered by his robes, and then poked said part with her wand. Draco watched in awe, despite having seen this type of magic be done countless times, as all his wounds healed instantly.
“Now, just sit quietly for a minute. I’ll come back when it’s time to get your score.” Madam Pomfrey said, before dropping a canvas curtain down between the boys’ cubicles and giving Harry a stern look. “That goes for you too, Mr. Potter.” She floated an ice pack onto Harry’s head and he held it there quickly before she could lower her wand. “Stay.” She said, then hurried next door to Cedric.
A moment later, Draco was pushing open Harry’s curtain. “We aren’t staying here, right?” He asked and Harry shook his head, already kicking off his sheets and jumping off the bed. “Nope.”
The two turned to walk for the mouth of the tent, Draco hobbling a bit on just one foot--Harry noticed his robes were burnt off around his other leg and assumed that’s where the dragon’s fire had got him during their first attempt at the egg--but before they could get there two people came darting inside.
It was Hermione, and Harry noticed, to his great surprise, Ron was following closely behind.
“Harry, you were brilliant!” Hermione practically screeched. “You both were, you really were!” She hooked her arms around both boys’ necks and brought them close, and, in this close proximity, the two noticed fingernail marks on her face where she must have been clutching it from fear. They couldn’t blame her.
But, once he’d gotten over the fingernail shock, Harry’s green eyes were trained on Ron, who was very white and staring at him as though he were a ghost. “Harry,” He choked out, but then, his head whipped around to the blonde Hermione still hugged, and he sneered, stepping forward and pushing Hermione off of him, whipping out his wand and shoving it under his throat.
“What were you thinking, Malfoy?! Thought you could kill my best friend by stuffing his name in that goblet, huh? While I reckon you’re regretting it now, aren’t ya?” He growled as Harry gaped at him and Draco looked at him as though he were insane. “Ron!” Hermione shrieked, grabbing his arm and trying to pry him away, though the redhead ignored her.
“You’re lucky to be alive right now, but it won’t last. Trust me.” His grip tightened on the now very disturbed Draco, but not frightened. “You’re going to regret ever putting Harry’s life in danger--” “RON!” Hermione practically tackled the boy, holding him around the waste and screaming into his face. “He didn’t do it, Ron! He didn’t do it!”
“How do you know?” He glared down at her, hand tight around his wand, other hand still tight in a fist around Draco’s robes. “You know how often this little Ferret lies? How can you trust him now?” “Because Sirius said so!” Hermione screamed, before promptly clasping a hand to her mouth as Draco stared at her with wide eyes full of shock and curiosity.
“What?” He choked out, struggling to speak due to Ron’s fist, but getting no answer as Ron let go of him and turned to Hermione slowly, head low in shame.
“Are you sure?” She nodded. He looked over at Harry, who nodded as well. He then sighed very deeply, and stepped away from Draco. “Sorry… But,” He pointed his wand back at him, face serious and menacing despite the fact that Draco clearly wasn’t fazed a bit. “If you try anything, I mean anything--”
“I got it, Weasley. Don’t worry.” Draco dropped his hand from where he was fixing his collar and smirked at him. “Trust me, I’ve been a better friend to Harry than you have in the past few weeks, that’s for sure.” Hermione was already grabbing Ron’s arms and holding him back from fighting the already beaten up blonde before he could try.
“Can you boys calm down? Fighting each other won’t help this. Harry,” She turned to face the very confused boy beside her. “Say something to your best friend.” A pause, and then she said, her voice a whisper, her eyes earnest. “Please.”
Harry rolled his eyes, then stepped up to Ron and, despite the redhead being considerably taller, felt more powerful in his scorched robes as he said, “Took you long enough.” Ron softened, starting to smile as he said, “Mate,” and Harry grinned back. “It’s okay.” He said, bumping his shoulder. “Forget it ever happened, alright?” Ron nodded slowly. “Yeah… alright.”
Hermione burst into tears. Draco rolled his eyes. And the two best friends remained grinning at each other, happy to be able to do so real and truly after what felt like ages.
“You two are so stupid!” Hermione shouted, before grabbing Harry and Draco by the wrists and dragging them out of the tent. “Go get your scores!” She yelled at them before stepping back inside the tent with Ron and closing the flap.
The boys locked eyes then each gave a short laugh, before heading off back to the enclosure to receive their scores.
Now that the Ironbelly was gone, the two could clearly see that the judges table was on the other side of the enclosure, higher above the ground but lower than the rest of the stands, a little scorched from eight dragon fights.
Harry and Draco both squinted up the field, as the first judge--Madame Maxime--raised her wand in the air. What looked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, floating high in the air then folding into a large eight. Harry felt a bump from his shoulder, and followed Draco’s gaze as he realized these were his scores, the name “Potter” being the one displayed in floating letters across the sky.
The crowd applauded Maxime's scoring, and Draco nodded to his teammate. “Not bad. At least she isn’t playing favorites, huh?” Harry nodded. That was very good.
Mr. Crouch was next, who shot a number nine into the air. Next was Dumbledore, who also put up a nine. Somehow, Bagman put up ten--”Ten? But I got hurt--” “Don’t complain about high scoring, Potter. That’s really good!”--and Karkaroff took a moment before putting up four, which caused Malfoy to yell a slur at the man and Harry to sneer.
“That biased scumbag… I bet he gave Krum ten!” Draco shouted, but Harry didn’t hardly notice Karkaroff’s scoring after that, realizing how angry Malfoy seemed, and how it wasn’t very… characteristic of him.
“It's your turn.” Harry muttered either way, as the letters in the sky spelling out “Potter” reformed to say “Malfoy.” Maxime went first once again, putting up a six this time. Draco frowned, folding his arms across his chest, but kept his eyes trained on the judges, looking serious. Mr Crouch shot up the number seven. Dumbledore said nine, just as he had with Harry, which Draco raised his eyebrows high in surprise at, while Bagman said eight. Finally, Karkaroff put up the number eight with no hesitation, and the boys looked at each other with a matching surprise.
“Eight?” Draco gasped, astonished. “Eight?” “Friend of your father, right?” Slowly, Draco nodded his head, and Harry frowned, turning away to face the judges once more. Dumbledore was smiling at them, and nodding, as both their names were displayed in the air, their total scores floating below, along with all of the other Champions.
Viktor Krum, 40 points.
Harry Potter, 40 points.
Tess Whitlock, 38 points.
Draco Malfoy, 38 points.
Cedric Diggory, 35 points.
Fernando Escarra, 32 points.
Fleur Delacour, 30 points.
Anya Sallow, 29 points.
Hugo Olsson, 28 points.
“Not bad.” Both boys found themselves saying to each other as they turned and nodded, smiling. “We might just have a chance.” Harry said while Draco merely shrugged. “Maybe.” He said, before turning and looking up at the stands, and in that moment Harry swore he could see life return to his face and beaten body as he took in the cheers. The cheers that were for him. Well, it was split, but he knew there were still some people out there who were cheering for him.
It was all he wanted from the moment he stepped on Hogwarts grounds, and despite the fact that his skin was ripped open and bleeding, and other places it was bruised, and his whole body felt scrambled and stiff… He had to close his eyes and enjoy the moment, just this once. Enjoy the cheers.
And though Harry wanted to make fun of him--the taunt was just at the tip of his lips--he instead found himself smiling as he watched the boy do the same, and leaned his head back, also absorbing the sounds of the crowd.
Who knows, maybe Draco Malfoy was rubbing off on him the wrong way, but he knew he deserved this, just as Malfoy did. Just once.
When the two re-entered the tent, Harry realized it seemed a lot more welcoming than it had before. Now that he wasn’t waiting for what then seemed to be the inevitable death of himself he felt a lot more comfortable and safe, and could realize how it was just like other tents; all warm and welcoming.
The other Champions were there waiting for him, sitting on various beds and stools across the small space as they had before. Krum was standing in a corner, as usual, while watching Anya and Hugo talk animatedly together. Anya’s hands were bandaged, while Hugo’s entire face was covered in an orange paste, and his hair singed. Cedric wore some paste too, so Harry assumed that it was for burns, as he remembered Madam Pomfrey lathering Draco’s leg with it at some point.
The Beauxbatons kids were gathered in an opposite corner of the tent, Fleur wearing just her uniform with the tip of her ponytail scorched, Fernando with his arm in a sling, and Tess looking entirely the same and unharmed.
And then there was Cedric, sitting alone on a stool, and grinning to Harry and Draco as soon as they walked in.
"Good job, both of you." He said, eyes lingering on the blonde boy. "Heard you were tied with Tess. You deserve more points, in my opinion." Draco's eyes widened in surprise, probably not used to a kindness like that, and looked away, biting his lip. "Thanks."
"What did Tess do?" Harry decided to ask, and while Cedric opened his mouth to speak, Fernando cut him off, hopping off his bed and dragging the spectacled girl with him, grinning like mad.
"She was brilliant! She got done the quickest! Should've won, in my opinion…" The boy said, voice thick with the accent of Spain while Tess lowered her head, covering her face with her curls and blushing.
"It was pure luck, really…" She said, and her companion waved a hand nonchalantly. "She's just being shy. She used the Summoning Charm–like you did--to get one of the eggs and distract the dragon, then summoned her own broom and wrapped the dragon’s chain--did you notice they all had one of those?--around her. After that it was a clear fly to the egg. You should've seen her! She was so fast, Bagman could barely keep up…"
Fernando's words trailed off into something unintelligible as he ranted and Tess easily shrunk away, whole face turned bright scarlet, and Harry and Draco glanced at each other, smirking.
Suddenly, Fernando was cut off when talking about the judges scores for the small girl when Bagman burst into the tent, grinning and bouncing on his feet like a puppy dog.
"Excellent work, all of you! Now, just a quick few words. You've a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of January twenty-fourth--but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at the golden eggs you all collected, you will see that they open… see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg--because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you, oh wait one more thing!"
The Champions all collectively sent glares of various intensities in Bagman's direction as they sat back down or stepped back from where they had been about to leave the tent, as Bagman whipped out a piece of parchment from his coats pocket and muttered something under his breath akin to the words "why is it always" and "couldn't have been Karkaroff."
He then cleared his throat and was back to grinning as he announced, "Due to the strange and unique number of Champions participating in this year's Triwizard Tournament, the usual number of Three Tasks will be increased to five, and a Champion shall be eliminated in the Second and Fourth, two in the Third, allowing for four to continue on to the Final Task. The result will be an increased stress for the Champions as their time between Task's decreases and the rate of losing increases, so we–the Judges--apologize in advance for the inconvenience. For this, we are making it the top priority of the Ministry at this time to find whomever or whatever led to Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Draco Malfoy joining the competition, as compensation and as an apology. Thank you."
Bagman looked up and nodded once at the perplexed faces of the teens before him, before stepping aside and gesturing to the outside forest.
"You may go now." He said, hurriedly ducking out of the tent before the Champions could trample him as they all ran out as well. Outside, they moved in groups through the trees out of the Forest, seeing a parade of students from all of their schools mixed together and running or walking towards the school while chatting animatedly.
The Champions went ahead to their friends, leaving the slow walking Harry and Draco behind. They stopped just before the edge of the trees, squinting to see their friends, and spotted Draco’s crowd taunting Harry’s, and both looked at each other, clear annoyance passing through their eyes.
Before they could make any further moves towards their friends, however, a witch jumped out of the tree beside them and right in front of their path. It was Rita Skeeter, wearing acid-green robes that matched her ever present Quick-Quotes Quill to a tee.
“Congratulations, boys!” She said, beaming at the two. “I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How did you feel facing that dragon? How do you feel now, about the fairness of the scoring?”
“Yeah, you can have a word.” Harry said savagely, as he grabbed Draco’s arm and pulled him closer. “Goodbye.” He growled, and dragged Draco with him back across the grounds and towards the crowd of students, all the while the blonde boy laughed maniacally behind him, and he managed to crack a grin.