The First Task
Sure enough, by Tuesday afternoon Draco’s been approached by several people from different houses for one of the buttons. Gryffindors think it’s funny, Hufflepuffs wanna support Cedric, and the Ravenclaws think the buttons are simply brilliant.
Severus had complained about them being distracting in class, partly because he had trouble looking not laughing at them, but he hadn’t taken any of them yet. Even the other schools were wanting one, Fleur in particular.
“It is secretly in support of them, right? That Cedric kid is wonderful, and I think I’m growing rather fond of Harry.”
Draco looks up from his mac and cheese, thankful once again for the seats between him and the others. “Don’t you dare.” He whispers, “That one is taken.”
“By who?”
Draco doesn’t dignify that with an answer because he has a date.
With the library.
Again.
For obvious reasons like helping Harry figuring out what the fuck he’s going to face on Saturday, and ideas for his project. But also because Geia apparently thought adding a research topic to their list was fun. He’s somehow managed to rope Hermione in, and by that he told her about it in passing and she’s taken it as a personal challenge to find out everything she can.
He spends the rest of Tuesday doing homework with Fleur popping in and out every now and then. Pansy’s somehow found time to start on her end of the year art portfolio, which means he’s had to listen to her worry about getting paint on her dress robe projects for one day and he’s already fed up with it. He kinda regrets getting her new paint supplies for her birthday.
Blaise refuses to step foot in a library with him unless it’s finals season or he has someone with him. Apparently he can only take so much of Study Draco, which is fair.
Currently, he has two tables pushed together and filled to the brim with books and papers. Fleur left when the books started piling above his head, or maybe that’s just because it’s nearing curfew and she’s just as freaked out about the first task as he is. Madam Pince comes over to kick him out, so he checks out Hexes and How to Avoid them, Protective Charms for Idiots, and Triwizard Tournament: A History, before vanishing the rest back with a sheepish smile.
He’s not surprised in the least to find Hermione outside with her arms piled high. There’s no one else in the hallway, but they don’t talk. Draco does, however, follow her back to the Gang’s Room.
“Did you know that Basilisks in Greek Mythology are completely different than they are in European Mythology? The Greeks say they used to have wings and talons.”
“I did not know.” Draco replies, pushing the door shut. “Did you know that in the 1598 Triwizard Tournament all of the contestants but the champion died and the person who won ended up dying three days later from poison that was released during the final task?”
Hermione chokes. “No, no I did not know that.”
“On the plus side, in the one before this only the headmasters were injured.”
“And when was that?”
“1792.” Draco smiles. “Maybe they’ve gotten less dramatic since?”
“Have you seen Dumbledore’s clothes?! All of them look like they’ve walked off a bad TV series!”
At least he knows what that is this time, Harry had a full list of them he wasn’t allowed to watch.
The next morning Draco’s studying once again, which annoys Fleur to no end.
“Do you ever do anything fun?”
“Yes,” Draco doesn’t even look up from his book, “Unfortunately, my family is now involved in a death competition.”
“And by that do you mean me or your little crush?”
“I haven’t had a crush since I was seven years old.”
“Ah, yes,” Fleur laughs, “Ludo Bagman, if I remember correctly. You have a thing for Quidditch men.”
Draco flushes and throws a ball of paper at her. “Don’t you have friends?!”
“Teasing you is much more fun.”
He is eventually saved from her antics by one of the Beauxbatons Boys, who are probably the prettiest men Draco’s ever seen. Thank Merlin he has class to distract him from all the other shit. And it’s Ancient Runes with his best friends and Hermione. He must be doing something right because Pansy only complains twice, which is a fucking miracle.
Unfortunately, by dinner he still has no clue what the first task is, or what secret message Geia is trying to convey. Fleur isn’t there to save him from Pansy bitching about her dress, or Blaise bitching about his Death Garden at home suffering because the water system messed up and one of the repair-people stepped on a bush.
They’re on the way to the Gang’s Room for their weekly meeting when he spots Fleur coming towards him with red-rimmed eyes.
“Darling?” Draco starts towards her. “What happened-”
She grabs his arm and marches on, right out the front door and all the way down by the Green Houses before she stops and throws herself into his arms.
Draco has no fucking clue what to do here. Fleur is crying, full on sobbing into his chest, and he’s only seen her cry while reading bad romance books. He gently rubs a hand down her back.
“What’s happened, love?” He asks softly, “Did some fucker not take no for an answer? I’ll kill them and you know it.”
Fleur laughs through her tears, and then pulls back with shaky hands. “I found out what the first task is...Madam found out from this Hagrid person and immediately told me and...Draco I-I’m not sure-”
“What is it?” Draco asks. His blood is running cold. If she’s scared he can’t imagine how Harry will react. Fleur doesn’t get scared.
Fleur wipes her cheeks. “Dragons.”
Draco is going to vomit. As soon as his heart starts working again he’s going to throw up all over her uniform. “What?”
“They’re huge! And, and apparently we have to fight them and get some sort of egg and I don’t know how to fight a fucking dragon!”
“You don’t have to.” Merlin, he’s in no fucking spot to be giving advice right now. “No one said you have to fight it. You just have to get around it. You’re a flyer, right? I know you wouldn’t pass up a chance to fly one of those carriages.”
The tears fade from Fleur’s eyes. “I could fly an armored carriage past it, grab the egg, and return safely...you’re a genius Draco!”
As nice as that is, Harry is going to be facing a fucking Dragon in a few days and he doesn’t have a fucking carriage.
Fleur gives him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then leaves him in the open still reeling. He stands there for a few minutes before he starts to return to the castle and bumps right into Ron.
“Draco? What are you doing out here?”
When Ron has to physically support him for a few seconds Draco realizes he might be overreacting. Just a little bit. “You okay, mate?”
“Oh, you know.” Draco manages, straightening out his robes. “You ever find out that one of your closest friends is gonna die as a Dragon treat?”
Ron pats his back. “So you found out what the first task is?”
“You knew?!”
“Just found out. I was as scared as you at first, but Charlie told me they keep them tame. His favorite is the Hungarian Horntail. Her name is Helga.”
Draco can’t do anything but laugh.
Pansy doesn’t find it near as funny.
“Helga...her name is Helga….do you think this is a fucking joke Roland? It doesn’t matter if you give Dragons poison they can still breathe fire you dipshit!”
“But it’s good that we know, isn’t it? Now we can prepare Harry!”
“Prepare?!” Hermione shouts. Blaise still isn’t functioning properly, and Draco can’t fault him for it. “He has three days. Okay? Three fucking days! How the hell are we-”
“Well we’re not gonna do it by fighting, are we?” Harry yells over her. “And like, look, a Dragon named Helga can’t be as scary as Geia. Aren’t Dragons just giant snakes with wings?”
Draco locks eyes with Hermione. “Giant...giant snakes.”
“With wings….”
“No.” Hermione starts. “No. No. That’s crazy, Draco. Even by our standards! We don’t even know if it’s true!”
“But we could still ask her. We don’t have a lot to go off of here! Anything that could work we need to use!”
“There’s no guarantee! It could just be a fluke.”
“There’s also no issue with asking!”
Ron steps between them, “Um. Would you care to share with the class?”
The two glare at each other and then Draco sighs. “In Greek Mythology...Basilisks are more like Dragons than Snakes…”
“You think Geia could help?”
Hermione nods and that is apparently enough for Harry because the idiot grabs Draco’s hand and pulls him all the way to the Chamber.
“Does this not seem a little crazy to you? Because it’s weirdly convenient to me.”
“Most answers are weirdly convenient.”
“You mean like a time tuner that’s been with us all along or a sword that literally appears out of nowhere?”
“Exactly like that.” Harry says to him, and then tells the door to open. Not even three seconds later and Harry is strolling in like he owns the place. All Draco can do is follow him in.
Geia hisses at them, something he doubts he’ll ever understand, but Harry gets it perfectly.
“What are you doing here? It isn’t Friday yet.”
“Right, so you know the Tournament, right? The one that some unknown fucker is forcing me to participate in?”
She’s definitely annoyed with him. “You told me last time-”
“Right, so, apparently I’m facing dragons and I have no fucking idea what to do but Draco thought it’d be a good idea to come and talk to you because apparently Greek You looks like them and that makes absolutely no sense so if you’re in a good mood could I please get some answers? I really don’t want to die before we can fully heal you, hell I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and-”
“You have come to ask a question and yet you tell a story?”
Harry pauses. “You...you’re right. Sorry about that. Um…”
They really need to get Geia one of Moody’s fake eyes so she can roll them. He deserves it at the moment.
“What would you like to know? You and your boyfriend have given me a clean home and comfort I haven’t known in years, answering a few questions is no trouble.”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” Harry says automatically, then he turns to Draco who is standing way too close for comfort and nods. “Right. Um, I guess my first question is if you’re really part Dragon? And if you are, what happened to your wings and stuff? You don’t look like the picture of Greek you, but you have scars where the things are supposed to be so…”
Geia sighs.
“Take a seat, young one. Allow me to paint you a picture.”
Harry plops down on the side of her big pillow, pulling Draco down with him. They end up lying side by side, Harry on his stomach so he can look Geia in her no-eyes, and Draco on his back staring at the ceiling.
“What do you know of the Greeks, child?”
“Not much. I’m muggled-raised so it’s best to assume I’ve never heard of anything. Like ever.”
Geia makes a noise that suspiciously sounds like a laugh. “Very well. Shall I start from the beginning?”
“Yes please!”
“Very well.” She moves a bit, sliding over to give the boys a bit more room. “I was born in the ancient days, back when magic ran the world, the forests and lakes promised to last forever, and the stars whispered secrets to those who would listen. Like you and every other, I too had a mother and a father. We were different from other snakes. In our life, my mother ruled our kingdom. She had glorious wings, large and deep blue. Her claws were sharper than my fathers, and her word was law. There were twenty of us. We didn’t need to mate often for our lines to succeed. As far as we knew, we were immortal. My parents never told me what life was like when they first opened their eyes, and I never asked. We lived in peace, kept to our own, never made enemies unless we had to. Much like our Dragon relatives, we were free. We could fight, yes, but we were not violent. Snakes never are.”
In his head, Harry can see it clear as day.
Fields of fresh flowers, giant snakes flying into purple nests up in the tops of trees that shine in the sunlight. Geia, young and half her size, chasing a blue dragon-looking snake through snow fields. The same snake, tall and dangerous, glistening wings like the night sky stretching out as she speaks to thousands of snakes before her. Geia flying with the dragons, taking baths in springs surrounded by glowing plants. Playing hide and seek with pixies and flying up to ask the trees if she could rest on their branches.
Harry can see the lights hang in the sky despite it being night, see the way trees glow, feel the softness of the grass on his skin, the rush of flight, the security of hanging in a purple-flower nest.
It’s wonderful, the world when magic was still alive.
“Life was good for us until it was not.”
The world in his mind dims a little.
Life fades out of the trees, the pixies fade, replaced by humans who scream and then become stone at the Blue Basilisk's word.
“The pixies were the first to die out. Sprites were next, along with the souls of trees. Our dragon cousins went into hiding, the others of my kind slowly stopped coming back to our nest. Eventually my father became lost, and my mother took me and the rest to a cave deep in the mountains, where the magic was still strong.”
He can hear water dripping, senses the despair of losing flight, but the joy of clear water on wings, sharpening talons on cave crystals, learning secrets by crystal light. But one by one, the snakes with wings dwindle.
“We had to get food every few years. And each time we lost someone. Eventually we had to send them out two at a time, someone to hunt and someone to guard. Before I knew it, I was the only one left.”
An image of Geia, curled up on stones that are suddenly cold, water that freezes her wings, talons overgrown and aching.
“It was cold, but I was too scared to go out alone. I was the only one left, and if I died, there would be no one to remember us. My friends, my family, my home was all gone. I had nothing.”
A warmth floods that dark dingy cave.
“And then I met a young boy named Asklepios.”
The boy is small, maybe eleven, wearing a toga with scuffed up knees and a staff in his hand. His hair is dark, his skin is tan, and his eyes widen at the sight of Geia.
“He heard me talking to myself, apparently, and came to invest. When he saw how close to death I was, he told me not to go anywhere and returned with food. He said he could help, and that he’d never seen a snake with wings before. He asked if I was a dragon, and when I told him no he carried on conversation like it was normal, but I had never met a human, or a wizard before. He was so small...bigger than the pixies, but with their playfulness. Smaller than the trees, but with their kindness. He had the spirit of a spite and the bravery of my fellow Basilisks. He was also my first friend.”
Images of Asklepios surge. The same small boy with a wicked smile, but taller than his staff now. A teenager with a freshly grown beard, sitting and talking with his hands.
“As he aged into adulthood, he became obsessed with healing. His father, Apollo, was one of the few who figured out how to use owls as messengers. Humans hailed him as a god, and wizards and witches alike praised him for his safer ways of communication. Asklepios loved his father, so when Apollo was cursed, he threw himself into finding an answer.”
The same man, bringing books with food, making his staff longer, talking by firelight. Older, thinner, worse.
“He spent many nights reading medical books to me, explaining the differences between bodies of magic and bodies without, we shared stories and secrets like I had done with my own kin and one day, just like them, he disappeared too. I went looking for him, concerned that something had happened, but I was met with fear and hostile beings.”
Witches, wizards, and humans surround her, try to rip her apart, scream and poke with knives. They can’t hear her pleading with them. And then, a familiar man stands in their way.
“He called me his inspiration. Said I was the one to come up with his ideas, helped him heal, taught him the secrets to medicine. I did not, but they believed it. Asklepios put me on his staff, and they used me as a symbol of something good. Something pure. As a result, I was allowed to leave my cave. I had a home in his garden he built for me, his wife sat with me and told me stories of her day in the evenings. His friend, Medusa, would bring me her snakes that would bow to me and tell me information no one else knew.”
She’s beautiful, Asklepios’s wife. Long hair, dressed in the same toga, but her wand tucked between folds and disguised as an olive branch. Medusa even more so, young, running around with snakes hanging off her hair and shoulders.
“And then, just as suddenly as the forests died, the wizards were forced into hiding. Some wizard had committed a crime, and the rest of us magical creatures paid for it. Asklepios and his family died, and I did not know the truth about humans yet. I still believed them to be kind creatures. I hoped the fire my friends died in was an accident, but when men came and found me, I knew it was not.”
Geia, out in the forest by a burning marble home, not sensing life, not smelling anything but ash and smoke. Something covers her face, snaps against her neck. He feels a burn on his back that’s so painful it makes him wither, and then the burn spreads and he collapses on the pillow.
“They took my wings first, so that I couldn’t fly away. Next my arms and talons, so that I could not hurt them. I had never murdered then, never hurt a single human, and they took everything from me. After that, while I was still bleeding, instead of killing me, they threw me in the ocean. Water snakes and mermaids helped me then, driven to the deep blue by scared “muggles” with weapons. They found me a new cave, one I vowed to never leave.”
Her new cave, dark, musty, a lot like the Chamber, but with more blood and less light.
“I started killing any human that came my way. I’d give them a warning, of course. It’s not my fault that they didn’t listen. And then I met a Potter.”
Harry straightens, watching in his mind as wavy dark curls come bounding in, demanding Geia stop threatening her and be quiet, only to turn and get angry.
“Her name was Anvi Potter, and she was the most willful woman I’d ever met. Fierce, strong minded, and outraged at my current state. She told me to behave, and I was so taken aback by her actions that I tried to bite her, and she snapped down my jaw and flicked her wand over the wounds on my back. The relief was instant…and when I realized what she’d done, I let her in. She was so different from Asklepios, never shy or quiet. Her magic was just as strong as his, but she was never afraid to hurt someone, never afraid of anything. She was both a healer and a fighter. She rode Dragons, healed me, had connections with the mermaids that led her to me. For as long as I knew them, the Potters fought for what they considered right. They were descendants of Medusa, like most of the great families, they were connected to the ancient magic. They stuck close to each other, and only after introducing me to her family did she call me her friend.”
A whole group of them, wild hair, big smiles, golden eyes. They look so happy and Harry can’t help but choke. His ancestors. These are his family….
“She never asked me to leave, but she made the cave better. Sometimes the family would visit together, bring food, have the mermaids and the snakes keep me company, clean the cave and force me to help. It was wonderful, but then Anvi died, and her daughter married a British man. She begged me to come with her, but I knew it wouldn’t be safe. So I asked the mermaids to take me to British waters, and they did. But I was too late. I had no idea where she was, and I had left my home and once again had nothing. So I found a new cave, one by a mansion and a young boy named Salazar.”
Salazar Slytherin looks nothing like what Harry has imagined. Because surely, the man has been a mean, elitist, old asshole his entire life. He has no business looking young and playful, with black hair in a ponytail, dirt on his green suit, and a white marble wand tucked into flawless pants.
“He was neither Asklepios or Anvi, nor like any of the others I had known, but he adored magic. He saw it, and creatures like me, as sacred. Salazar treated me with respect and as he grew older, a friend. He had no one, and I didn’t either. Two lonesome souls, finding solace in each other. He came to me with everything, when his parents told him of an arranged marriage, when he feared for bloodlines, when Godric started fights, when Rowena forced him to help with the Tournament, when Helga came to him with the idea of a school. I knew more about the inner workings of his mind than any historian ever will. Salazar built me this home, and before he left he told me never to leave. That it wasn’t safe, and that someone would always be around to help me.”
This Salazar he knows, the man is old and mean, looks every bit the blood purist Hermione complains about. Emerald robes, long white hair, a beard that puts Dumbledore to shame.
“I didn’t believe him, but during his time away I found truths. Humans are complex, child, you must understand that. Every single one of them has a weakness. Every single one of them starts pure until fear and hatred works their way into their lives. Very few are born evil. And it was at the time of my discovery that I met Tom Riddle. I will not tell you of him, for you know more than I on the matter. I knew Riddle as a boy, and now I know him as a true monster. Truly, I thought no one would come and find me, and that I would die and finally be with my forgotten souls, but you, Harry Potter….”
Geia lowers her head fully onto the pillow, if her eyes were open Harry would be staring straight into them.
“You have given me a new hope. You and your boy, you both are so different and so alike. You have come into my home, cleaned me up, and brought back memories that I thought no longer mattered. For this I am eternally grateful, and I will teach you the secret of Dragons. So that you can remember me, know me not as a monster, but as Geia. So that you do not leave him alone as I have been left. So that you may return to me, teach me the new secrets of the world.”
Harry has a weird urge to hug her. His arms would never fit around her neck, she’s way too big for it anyways, but he still reaches out and pats her nose.
Beside him, Draco’s dead asleep, curled up on his side. His hair fans out in the most beautiful way, his head is practically on Harry’s arm, and since Draco’s probably not waking up any time soon, he won’t be going anywhere for a long time. So he gets comfortable, takes a second to brush a stray strand of hair behind Draco’s ear, and turns back to his new friend.
The snake his ancestors knew.
He makes a mental note to look into that as soon as the first task is over, but in the meantime…
“I would be honored to be your friend.”
Draco wakes up with something warm beside him, he’s so comfortable, and he can hear running water so he should probably get up if Blaise is already in the shower. He opens one eye, expecting to find LuLu curled up next to him, but instead he finds himself face to face with a mop of black hair and a snoring Harry.
His heart makes a funny thump in his chest and he can feel the heat rising to his cheeks. Before he can do anything stupid like kiss him, or play with his hair, or snuggle closer like an idiot he pulls out his wand and casts a quick tempus.
Then he sits up straight, dragging Harry with him and nearly screams when Geia’s head pops up from the water.
“Wha?” Harry rubs at his eyes, “Wut ‘re you doing?”
“Harry!” Draco grabs his face. “Harry we need to go! It’s nearly eight!”
His cheeks look so cute squished between Draco’s hands. “So?”
“So, people will know we haven’t been back! Do you want to get caught in the halls together?”
“Sure.” Harry mumbles back, but then Geia hisses something from the pool and his eyes open. “OH wait. Oh-” Red flourishes on his cheeks and here Draco was thinking his eyes couldn’t get any greener. “Hello, um, good morning, I guess.”
“Good morning.” Draco chuckles. He pulls them both upright, dusts off his robes. “We do need to get going.”
Harry grins at him, and then waves to Geia, speaking in something that doesn’t really sound like hissing, but Draco can’t understand it so he guesses it’s fine. They lock the door behind them and are almost to the bathroom where they’ll have to part ways when Harry stops him.
“So last night...while you were sleeping...guess what I did.”
“Hopefully found out how the hell to fight a dragon?”
“It’s better than that. I learned how to talk to them.”
Draco nearly trips over the same pile of skulls they always forget to clean up. “Excuse me?!”
“Isn’t it cool!” Harry grins, still walking like speaking to a beast will keep it from killing him. Maybe if Draco ties him to a chair the Goblet won’t kill him and he can spend the entire Tournament getting yelled at.
“Cool?!” Draco struggles to catch up to him, the little bastard is already at the bathroom entrance. “How is that cool? How is that useful?!”
“Because I can talk to them! Geia said to mention her name and it should help, though I also have to do this weird bow thing to show respect, there’s a spell, don’t worry.”
Draco’s five seconds from punching him. “How-you-fucking-”
“Don’t be like that! You’ll ruin your breakfast if you’re in a bad mood.” Harry grins, stepping closer to the door. “Bye, Draco!”
“Don’t you dare walk out that- Harry!”
But Harry is gone. And Draco is standing in the bathroom with a giggling Myrtle, a headache, and a need to fucking shower.
The first thing he does is take a well deserved shower. He kinda smells like snake, and Draco, plus he really needs something to wake him up. Just because Draco slept through most of the night doesn’t mean Harry did. Of course, he gets out of the shower right as the others are heading down to breakfast, which means Ron teases him and Seamus and Dean don’t fully get the joke but laugh anyways. Neville just looks tired, so at least he has that going for him.
The second thing on his master list is to get some fucking food. Staying up learning a semi-new language makes a growing boy tired, so after a few sausages and some weird looks from Hermione, Harry is fully prepared to begin his plan. And then a giant, pissy-looking owl drops a note on his plate.
Fireplace. Tonight. One hour before curfew.
There’s no name, but he recognizes Remus’s handwriting. Not a good sign. Remus and Sirius always say more. Like “be safe or else” at the bare minimum. They're definitely pissed, but Harry has at least eight hours before he has to worry about that.
For now, he has to find the other champions.
A problem, because he can’t find any of them. Or at least, he couldn’t find any of them, until he runs smack into Fleur on the way to charms.
“I am so sorry-hey!” Harry smiles up at her offended face. “I’ve been looking for you!”
Hermione and Ron are both seconds away from a heart attack, he’s sure, but he waves them on and smiles at Fleur again. At least this time she’s slightly amused and not dead-seat on hitting him.
“You have been looking for me?”
“Yes!” Harry looks around the hall, students stop and stare. It’s not hard to imagine why. Fleur is very attractive. “But not here. Sorry, I know this is weird, but-”
She’s already pulling him to the side, away from prying eyes and listening ears. “What is it? You will be late for class if you do not hurry.”
“Please. Hermione would kill me.” Fleur’s eyebrows shoot into her perfect hairline so he quickly continues. “Anyways, um, I just….” He lowers his voice. “I found out what the first task is…”
Fleur blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. Then she chuckles. “Yes, dragons, I know. I’ve already come up with a-” Her eyes widen. “You need a plan, ‘Arry! You are a child! If you do not have a plan you will die and-”
“I have a plan!” Harry raises his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry, I definitely have a plan. I was coming to make sure you have a plan.”
He’s left with a blinking Fleur all over again. “You..you came to make sure I was going to be okay?”
“Yes? I know we’re supposed to be competitors or whatever, but I didn’t like the idea of the others not knowing, ya know? It’s not fair if one person knows and the others don’t. Anyways, since you’re good and all, I really should be getting to class. See you tomorrow!”
Harry barely makes it in the door before the bell rings, and he completely misses how Fleur stares after him with surprised eyes and a small smile.
He spots Krum as he’s heading to lunch, stopping mid-conversation about anti-fire charms to shout “Krum! Hey! Krum!”
Harry goes jogging to him, but Krum just waves off his fellow Durmstrangs and walks calmly until they meet.
“Hello, Harry.” No need to sound so suspicious, but Krum does. Harry looks around them, sees that no one is really paying attention, and leans closer.
“Hey, so, I know what the first task is. We’re gonna be facing dragons and-”
“Yes, I am aware.” Krum looks just as startled as Fleur, which is weird since they both know. “I thought it was common knowledge that people always cheat in these types of things?”
Harry stares at him, and Krum seems to realize in that moment that he’s never really cheated before, so he puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder and whispers “Look, a word of advice since you tried to help me, take a general antidote and wear fireproof underwear.”
Then he leaves Harry standing in the middle of the hallway right as Ron catches up to him.
“What was that about?”
“Honestly, I wish I knew. Though fireproof underwear does sound like a good investment.”
Ron gives him a look. “I’m too hungry to deal with this right now, let’s go.”
“But my underwear-“
“I’ll get you some for Christmas if you make it past the first task.”
He finds Cedric right before dinner.
Or, really, Cedric finds him.
“Harry!”
Harry turns to see him and his girlfriend, Cho, walking towards him. They both look a little dead inside, like they haven’t slept in a few days, but Cho looks three seconds away from screaming.
She waves, Cedric kisses her on the cheek and closes the distance between them and Harry decides then and there that Cedric deserves the title of Hogwarts Champion not only because he’s kind, charming, funny, and smart, but because Cho might murder someone if her boyfriend dies.
“It’s dragons.’ Harry whispers the second Cedric is close enough.
Cedric, apparently, was the only one that didn’t know.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Dragons. We’re facing dragons.”
Cedric takes a deep breath and then pulls him to the side entrance of the Great Hall. “What the fuck?!”
“I know, right! I had the same reaction, but look, I’ve been looking into it, and we don’t have to fight them, we just have to get around them.”
“How the fuck are we supposed to do that?” Cedric seethes.
Harry has a sudden bright idea. Draco is going to kill him for this, literally murder him right before Hermione can get close enough, but it’s worth it. “I’ll give you my broom. It’s the fastest in the whole school, and I’ve seen you fly. You should be able to get around your dragon if you fireproof it. I was told something about antidotes and dragon-proof clothes?”
That actually gets a laugh out of the shaken up boy, but then Cedric’s brows furrow. “Wait a second. If I have your broom, how are you going to make it? I can’t take it from you, Harry. You need it more and I-”
“I have a different plan.” Harry smiles. “I won’t even need a broom. I can’t say a lot, but it’s going to be showy and a big ‘fuck you’ to the whole competition. If you take the broom, you’ll probably get done before the others, and I fully plan on taking as long as possible, so don’t worry about it.”
“Why are you doing this? Don’t you want to win?”
Now it’s Harry’s turn to blink. “Look, if I win this, I won’t be winning it for Hogwarts. I’ll be winning it for whatever fucker forced me into this mess, and I don’t plan on giving the asshole the satisfaction. You are the rightful Hogwarts Champion. You deserve to win this, I don’t even want to compete. Support Cedric, Potter Stinks, okay?”
Cedric takes a second to consider this, and then grins at him. “You’re a good person, Harry.”
And he knows, of course he does. Bad things rarely happen to bad people, Uncle Vernon taught him that. His parents were good people, and they died. Sirius is a good person, and he spent twelve years in Azkaban. Remus is a good person, and he got bitten by a werewolf.
His friends are all good people, and look at the mess that gets them into.
The mess of making ‘Potter Stinks’ badges for all of Hogwarts in the Gang’s Room. They had to leave dinner early for this.
“I agree with Draco, Harry. Just talking to a dragon isn’t going to save you, it’s going to get you fucking killed!”
“No it’s not! Harry whines back. They’ve been arguing for the past hour about it. Ginny, Millie, and the twins are the resident welders for the evening, churning out dozens of buttons within minutes thanks to whatever spell Draco used. Hermione, Pansy, Draco, and Blaise charm and transfigure the metal. Ron, Harry, and Luna are stuck on cooling duty.
“We think it’s cool!” Fred chimes in. Pansy glares at him.
“It’s not cool, it’s stupid. And you’ll realize this tomorrow when Harry ends up being dinner for dragons.”
“I mean, there are more boring ways to die.”
Draco hits his arm again, before drilling him with more Fun Facts about how he’s probably going to die. Harry doesn’t understand why they all have so little faith in him. He’s survived worse, a dragon seems fun. It’s at least new.
Plus he’s so excited to see their faces when he casually performs an ancient ritual that was supposed to be forgotten years ago. Hermione will be thrilled then.
“What did Geia tell you anyways? She was talking for hours.”
Harry grins, latching on to the new topic because if he can’t impress his friends with his plan, he can at least amaze them with Geia.
“Did you say Asklepios, like the Asklepios?!”
“Um, yes? But I feel like my relatives were more important-”
“Harry!” At least Hermione is finally not yelling at him. “Asklepios was the Greek wizard who came up with modern medicine! He was a genius! Without him we wouldn’t have any of our healing charms, even the ones for common colds! His work was amazing!”
“And?” Harry rolls his eyes, “My ancestors still feel a bit more important.”
Hermione has the decency to look guilty. “Yes. Well, I mean, they are of course.”
Luna finishes her button, there are only twenty more to go and it’s only nine. Sirius will be calling soon. “Do you want to know more about them, Harry?”
“Of course I do! I don’t know anything about them, I barely know anything about my father!”
“Okay.” Luna says with a smile, and that doesn’t give him the greatest feeling. Luna is cool and all, but sometimes Harry feels like she knows more than she’s supposed to. It’s a little frightening if he’s honest.
They finish the buttons with their own, Harry makes sure his is the biggest, and then lets the Slytherins and Hermione charm clothing that he brought with him. Hermione is the only one allowed to touch his underwear, and yes, he does make her hide in the corner so no one else can see it.
Blaise and the Weasleys only make fun of him a little bit.
At the end of the night Harry hugs each of them and sends them on their way. No one questions why Draco stays. Not even a full minute after the door shuts and Sirius is calling his name
“Harry James Potter! Are you trying to make me go bald?!”
“Sirius-”
“A death competition?! Really?!”
“Babe-”
“Was the Basilisk not enough?!”
“Honey-”
“If you die I will ground you! Do you understand me?! Ground you!”
“Sirius! Shut up!”
Harry’s more than confused. After all, he doesn’t even live with them, Dumbledore said he couldn’t. And he knows Remus’s voice, but the one that told his god father to shut it isn’t Remus. In fact he doesn’t think he’s ever heard that voice.
Draco has though.
He nearly falls into the fire, “Mum?!”
“Mum?”
Oh fuck.
Narcissa’s face, the one he’s only seen in photographs, pops up into the fire with a smile. “Hello, darling. And Mister Potter, it is a pleasure to meet you, though I do wish it was under better circumstances.”
Sirius is yelling again, but Harry’s a little too struck to do anything but mumble an awkward ‘hello’.
“What are you doing here?!” Draco finally shouts over his cousin.
Narcissa rolls her eyes, “Sirius- shut up!- told me he’d be calling tonight, and I wanted to give as much advice as I could. These games are a very real threat, it is rare for all contestants to leave the final arena, and since Mister Potter is a rather….important person..... I find it imperative that he is fully prepared.”
“Please, Mrs. Malfoy, call me Harry. And don’t worry, that includes you Sirius. I totally have the dragon issue covered.”
All three of the adults freeze, Draco rubs his temple. “You do not! You’re plan is stupid and reckless and-”
“Dragons?!” Sirius screams.
“Like real life dragons?!” Remus echoes.
Narcissa is the only one not losing it. She silences the men with her and begins telling Harry things he never thought he’d hear from her.
“Okay. Dragons. We’re dealing with dragons, and since you’re rather calm about it, I assume you think you have a good plan. However, I tend to agree with my son on most things, so allow me to give you a bit of advice. If you haven’t already, charm your undergarments. All of them, even your glasses. You’ll want not just heatproof, but water and ice proof as well. Dragons are more than just fire, you know. If you’re not given armor (“He better have armor!”) there’s a simple charm to make regular clothes tough.”
She guides him through things Harry kinda already knows. Dragons are big, dangerous, and sometimes assholes. It’s best to get in and out as quick as possible, stay away from their tails and faces, don’t show weapons until the last second. Do not. Absolutely do not get killed.
So basically, what Hermione and Draco have been yelling at him since they found out without any of the information Geia showed him.
They apparently don’t view dragons in the same way.
Geia told him that yes, Dragons are fierce creatures but they have to be. Even in the old days, they were hunted and stolen from. But when they aren’t defending their own, they’re surprisingly funny. Loyal, kind, and willing to die for their friends. Harry’s looking forward to meeting that type of dragon.
Any hope leaves him the second he makes his way down to the arena and a blonde woman nearly yanks his arm off.
“Harry Potter! How lovely to meet you! I know the competition will be staring soon, but you’re the only one I haven’t interviewed! I need a few words for my paper, you see, and since-“
Harry tries to dislodge his arm. He really makes a few token attempts, but this woman has a grip of steel not even Hermione can save him from.
“Um, I’m kinda busy and I don’t know who you are so..“
“Don’t know who I am?! Why that’s a travesty! I am the one, the only-“
“Rita Seeker.”
The voice comes from behind her and Harry finds himself looking from one annoying blonde to one annoyed blonde. Fleur looms tall over Seeker, stepping forward with Cedric and Krum on either side of her. Both of the boys look a little pissed, and anyone who can make Cedric pissed naturally makes Harry warry.
“If it isn’t the champions!” Seeker gleams in her sly, sticky voice. Something awful lurks behind her smile, Harry hopes it’s just what she had for breakfast.
“Have you not wreaked enough havoc?” Fleur asks. “I have no idea where you got my personal information, but I assure you, you will regret exposing it.”
“How very common for a Veela.” Seeker smiles. Harry kinda wants to punch her. “And you? Krum? Are you angry as well? I tried to paint you as a flattering young man, despite your school’s reputation.”
Krum looks like he’s debating spitting on her. She turns her ugly notebook to Cedric.
“Mister Cedric! How lovely to see you again, perhaps you can answer my question? How does it feel to be Hogwarts’ second choice?”
Oh hell no.
Harry’s stepping forward before Hermione or Ron can pull him back. He stands with the champions, glaring at the asshole with a gleam in her eyes.
“These people behind me are the champions, do you get it? Not me. They worked hard to earn their titles, they deserve to step on that field and be held to a standard so high you can’t even imagine it. Fleur Delacour is an amazing woman. She is fierce and kind , she does not stand for inequality and will face anything she encounters head on. Viktor Krum is more than a Quidditch hero, he is a student, a friend, and more charming than anything you can ever say about him. He and his fellow Durmstrang students are just as brilliant as those who go to Hogwarts. And Cedric Diggory never has and never will be Hogwarts’ second choice. He is loyal, brave, and more of a wizard than you can hope to be.” Harry points to himself.
“I am the second choice here, understand? I was not supposed to be apart of this, and I refuse to sit here and listen to you degrade the true champions for an article. You want a few words for your paper? Think of them by yourself. The champions have a competition to win, and I have to be there to support them.”
He turns on his heel, a dramatic show he learned from Draco, and marches the champions away. Hermione bumps into Seeker’s shoulder as she joins them, even Ron is smiling.
“You are here to support us?” Fleur laughs, “I think that will make headlines, no?”
Krum grins, “I hope her face makes headlines. What an awful woman.”
“You can say that again,” Cedric sighs, “But Harry...we’re all lumped into this, okay? You’re competing just as much as we are.”
“No I’m not.” Harry says before Hermione or worse, Ron, can tell him otherwise. “My goal here is to not die. I don’t want, or need to win. That’s your job.”
They don’t say anything, but Harry gets the feeling they won’t take well to the ‘Potter Stinks’ badge shining on his back. He just hopes Seeker got a good picture of it. It’s the only thing he wants in the headlines, thank you very much.
Ron and Hermione bid him goodbye at the tents, with them is a weird three headed snake patronus that wraps around him in a weird three-headed hug before vanishing. Draco’s apparently just as worried as he predicted.
And when Harry sees his outfit, he all but screams in frustration. No wonder Seeker thought Cedric was a second choice.
“I’m not wearing this.”
“Yes you are.” Fleur says. She’s dressed slightly different, her ‘armor’ a pale blue and white body suit that hugs in all the right places. The Beauxbatons crest rests right above her heart. She looks every bit a warrior, but Harry’s suit just looks cheap.
“No I’m not. I need-do any of you know how to fix clothing?”
“Why would we know that?” Krum asks. He also looks like a fighter, dressed in an all black suit, Durmstrang symbol the only color on him. Harry wonders briefly if it chaffs as badly as he thinks it will, and then Cedric emerges from behind a sheet and that settles it.
No why in Godric’s great name is he letting Cedric walk out in all yellow while he’s in all red. No, no, no. Just. No. This isn’t some house competition. It’s a death competition. And he’s not going out knowing that Cedric might be remembered as the Hufflepuff, you know, Hogwarts’ Second Choice.
Over his dead, decaying, rotting body.
And if Draco can make his patronus give Harry a hug, Harry can use his to summon someone he knows can help. He steps back from the others, holding his wand high. There’s a moment where all of their eyes widen, but then he thinks of Geia’s story, falling asleep next to Draco, Sirius and Remus smiling through the fire, Ron and Hermione laughing with him in the common room.
One expecto patronum later and his stag appears. For some weird reason, the others look at him funny. Oh well, he can worry about that later.
“Hi.” He says to the stag. “Can you, um, do me a favor? I need you to go find Pan- Pretty. You know the person I’m talking about. Tell her it’s an emergency.”
Harry swears his stag rolls it’s eyes, but five minutes later Pansy is storming into the tent.
“Potter! What the hell are you thinking? Sending a giant stag to come and get me?! Have you lost your bloody mind? Have you any idea what type of scene you nearly caused?! You’re lucky no one around but Blaise and Draco and-oh. Hello.”
For a moment Harry thinks she is actually going to bow to the others, but she just turns her full glare on him. “This better be good.”
“It is!” Harry holds his outfit out to her. “Look at this! It’s like they’re trying to make me a champion! And look at Cedric! He looks like a walking Hufflepuff sign! No offense, Cedric, but Parkinson! Don’t you think the Hogwarts Champion deserves better?”
A wicked smile comes over Pansy’s face. She snatches Harry’s robes, marches up to Cedric and demands his too. There’s a bit of an awkward pause and then Cedric disappears behind the curtain again. Fleur doesn’t seem confused in the least, which is strange because Krum definitely thinks he’s a few screws loose.
“Fleur! Look at you! You look amazing!”
“Thank you, darling.” Fleur smiles, “But I have to ask, what are you going to do with the boys’ garments?”
Pansy smirks. “Oh, I have a few ideas.”
Harry wonders if he might regret this, but then Cedric is tossing his suit over the curtains and Pansy pulls out her wand. It’s remarkable what she can do in a few minutes. If she can change Hufflepuff yellow into a Hogwarts suit, complete with a giant fearsome beaver on the back and the Hogwarts’ chest over the heart in five minutes, Harry has no doubts that her Yule Ball dress is going to blow him away.
Literally.
Pansy throws Cedric’s robes over the curtain, where Harry can hear the boy laughing at the whole situation, and then sets to work on his.
“Not to tell you what you're doing, but do you think you could have my logo on the back?”
“Like I wasn’t going to do that in the first place.”
Sure enough, he’s handed back a suit that’s a plain khaki color, with no school attached to it. On the back, written in Slytherin green is ‘Potter Stinks!’ and that is a suit Harry will wear with pride.
Not what he’d like to die in, but beggars can’t be choosers, and Pansy is already marching back out of the tent so he’ll take it.
Needless to say, it’s not what Charlie was expecting.
He comes in with a box that he nearly drops when he sees them.
“I see you changed your suits…”
Harry grins. “It suits me, doesn’t it? I mean this khaki just does something for my ego-and look! I have my own logo!”
One quick turn later and Charlie is laughing. “I take it you aren’t fond of the competition?”
“Not in the slightest!” Harry beams.
Charlie introduces himself to the others, explains that baby versions of the real dragons are going to be chosen from the box. Naturally Harry ends up with the most dangerous, the Hungarian Horntail. At least he knows her name.
The worst part about being in the competition is not being able to watch the competition. He wants to know what the others are doing, but he can’t because watching them is apparently cheating, and apparently you can’t do that in plain sight, no matter what Krum says.
There’s a lot of roaring, screaming and cheering from the crowd and then finally, finally, it’s Harry’s turn.
He’s so fucking excited.
The crowd, however, is not. And that just makes him smile.
He can see the badges on every Hogwarts kid from the stands, and because Seeker pissed him off, he turns around and shows his back to the crowd. It’s hopefully the only time they’ll cheer for him.
And then a gate opens and his dragon is released.
Narcissa was right.
Dragons are huge.
Helga comes out angry, cursing and speaking so fast Harry has trouble catching up with her. But when she spots him there’s no question about what she was saying.
She was declaring that he would be her lunch, and Fred bet twenty gallons that he wouldn’t die until the last task, so he can’t really do that yet.
Harry stands his ground, waits until she’s twenty feet away from her and then whispers
Aš esu tavo draugas. I am your friend.
Helga halts, her wings blowing air into his hair, but Harry’s a little busy bowing to care.
Klausyk ir girdi mane. Listen and hear me.
Aš esu tavo draugas. I am your friend.
He images Anvi, bowing in the same way, long curly hair in the dirt, and feels stronger. He can do this.
With his nose nearly touching the ground he says “My name is Harry Potter. I am friend to Uγεία , the Serpent King. Descendant of Anvi Potter, friend of Dragons. Listen and hear me, I am your friend.”
The stillness of Helga echoes throughout the stadium, and then the dragon roars. “My friend? You dare call yourself my friend after what you have done? You are no friend to dragons! You are here to steal from me! You have already taken one my children- mine! I will not let you near my others! Your kind steal me from my home! Take me away from my family, and then take my family away from me! How dare you call yourself my friend!”
Okay, so he seriously needs to have an in depth conversation with Charlie when this is all over. Stealing children is never an okay thing to do, dragon or not.
“I have stolen nothing from you, nor do I intend to take what is yours, least of all your children. To separate a child from its mother is evil in its rawest form.”
“Liar! You will do what your friends have done! You will steal my egg-my child!”
Oh. That’s the issue, well, the issue aside the other issues. Seriously, what is it with wizards and the poor treatment of awesome things?
“The egg my friends and I have gathered is not a real egg. It is fake, not even of pure gold.”
“How do you expect me to believe you?”
Harry considers this, wondering how Anvi would have responded, if she ever had this issue. Probably not. He can’t imagine her trying to take a dragon’s egg.
“I am here, with my face to the ground and my wand undrawn. I speak you language and pose no threat. Listen and hear me, I am your friend.”
Helga’s wing pick up speed, but she doesn’t come closer. Harry wonders if this means something.
“You will climb on my back and I will take you to my nest, like a true friend of dragons. If you betray me, or take what is mine, I will kill you and everyone who thinks they are protected from me. Do you comprehend, Speaker?”
“Yes. As I have said, I am your friend.”
The dragon huffs at that. “Raise your head, or do you intend to climb me with your nose in the dirt?”
She makes a fair point, so Harry stands, ignores the gasps coming from the crowd, and casually climbs on top of his sassy not-exactly-friend that can and will kill him if he makes a mistake. Except it’s not so casual and he does have to fucking climb her like one of those rock walls Dudley talked about after one of his birthday parties.
Helga raises her head and Harry is suddenly eye level with the judges. He winks at Dumbledore, and the Helga takes flight.
It’s fucking amazing. Like, he can never ride a broom again after this. There’s nothing like it, flying with no saddle, on the back of kind of pointy scales that do hurt a little, feeling the wind in his hair. He has an odd urge to laugh so he does.
“This is amazing!”
“Fortunately, the ride is over. Show me this Fake Egg you speak of.”
Harry, thoroughly disappointed that the stadium isn’t bigger, slides off her neck and into the nest. The eggs are almost his size, which means he can easily avoid them and find the little golden wannabe tucked in the middle. He grabs it and turns, holding it out so she can sniff it.
“This is the egg. Smaller than yours, made not of gold but of magic for a game. We have not been stealing from the dragons, listen and hear me. I am your friend.”
Helga does not look the least bit like a friend at the moment.
As a matter of fact, she looks fucking furious. Like Draco when Harry nearly dies furious. It’s not a comforting sight, but at least he gets why Narcissa named his crush after a dragon now.
“They have tampered with my eggs?!” She roars, swishing her head to the judges. “How dare they!”
She lunges for them, right as Harry makes the connection.
Oh shit.
He doesn’t really think before he does it. Just pulls out a wand, casts a voice-enhancing spell the Gryffindors use during Quidditch matches to scream louder, and says “Stop! Do not give them reason to harm you! I know you are angry, but your eggs are safe! If you harm them, there is no telling what might happen to you! Charlie will not let harm come to your eggs, but you mustn't let yourself be taken from your family again! Hurting them will only beg that to happen don’t you see?!”
Helga turns to him in her fury and decides he really is her target so Harry makes what might be the dumbest decision in his long list of them. He waits until the moment is right and then jumps, the golden egg tucked securely in his left arm while his right arm reaches out. He grabs onto one of her scales, barely making it to her neck before she’s aiming for the sky.
“Get off of me! Traitor! You call yourself my friend and aid those who harmed my kin! You are no friend of dragons!”
Well, he might not live up to Anvi, but he can definitely picture her holding on for dear life as an angry dragon tries to fly away.
“We have not harmed your kin! Your eggs are safe! Your children are safe! Charlie will not let harm come to them! It is you who would kill first! Taking their lives would mean throwing your own away!”
Helga does not give a single shit. She flies against her chains, reaching the top of the stadium and then Harry hears a distinct loud snapping noise and whimpers.
The dragon flies past the stadium. Harry wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into now.
“Listen to me!” He screams, really hoping his friends did something dramatic like pass out the second he bowed to her so they can’t yell at him later, “Helga! Listen!”
The dragon’s flight calms.
“My mother was taken from me.”
The dragon stills, wings flapping to keep them high in the sky. Harry can barely make out the tops of trees.
“She stood up to a man who tried to harm me, and because of that I was beaten and treated like scum for eleven years. I know what happens to children to lose their families. I did not mean to insult you, or offend you, but I can not watch you be harmed for taking an innocent life. Yes, what the judges did was stupid, but they would not harm you or your eggs without cause. Attacking them is all they need, and not even Charlie could save you from your fate then.”
Helga stays unmoving for a long time, and then “Charlie….he is the one to call me Helga. He sneaks me goats when no one is looking…”
“He is my friend.”
“He is a true friend to dragons….”
Slowly, like so slowly Harry almost feels like he’s floating, Helga makes her decent.
When her feet touch the stadium ground, no one, not even the judges are moving. Harry slides off her neck and moves to bow before her once again.
“Thank you.” Is all he can think to say before he’s rising and meets her golden eyes. He panics for a second, wondering if he stood too quickly, but then Helga bows her head to him.
“You are a strange wizard, Harry Potter. Much like your ancestor, Anvi you called her? We dragons do not speak highly of humans, but it seems we always make the exception for you and yours.”
“Thank you.” He says again, and then tacks on “Helga.” because just saying ‘thanks’ doesn’t feel like enough.
Helga raises her head. “My name, young Potter, is Auksas. When we meet again, I hope you are a closer friend to dragons.”
Harry doesn’t know what the fuck to say to that, but Helga- no, Auksas, is already turning her back to him and making her way to her nest.
For the second time that day, the crowd cheers for him.