Chapter 18
“Harry!”
The shout was the only warning he got before Hermione was throwing herself at him and he got a mouthful of her hair as he laughed in delight.
“Come off it, Hermione, let him breath!” He heard Ron scold, but the moment Hermione let him go, Ron grabbed him himself in a tight hug. Then Ron was shoved away and Draco stared at him a moment before hugging him just as tightly.
“Prat. Can’t believe you got into the Tournament without even showing up.” Draco muttered, and Harry laughed despite himself.
“It wasn’t on purpose.”
Then Draco was stepping back and he caught sight of Neville hanging back. Harry’s grin widened.
“Neville!” At the bright greeting, Neville gave a shy smile, and stepped forward as well, accepting Harry’s hug.
“Good to see you, Harry, even if it’s for a death defying event.”
Harry grinned back at him.
“When do I do anything that isn’t death defying?” He countered.
“Usually on Thursdays.” A soft voice murmured, and Harry spun to see Luna and Ginny standing together a few feet to his left. He was grinning so wide his face hurt with it, but he didn’t mind a bit. He skipped forward to grab them both in a hug, and ducking when Ginny swatted at him.
“The twins have started a betting pool, you know. On which champions will win, which will get injured, and which will survive.” Ron told him, and Harry rolled his eyes at their antics, because of course they did.
“It’s morbid.” Hermione complained, but Harry just slung an arm around her.
“Let them have their fun. I know I’m about to.”
“Dragons are nothing to scoff at!” Hermione scolded, turning on him, but Harry put up his hands.
“Trust me. I have a plan.”
>>>
As Harry sat, knees bouncing with his nerves, he hoped it hadn’t been all bravado when he’d assured his friends he had a plan.
After all, he did, but that didn’t make him any less nervous. George had already snuck in to give him a bolstering hug, Fred keeping watch so they didn’t get caught, and while it had helped, it didn’t completely settle the butterflies in his stomach.
When the four champions had drawn the miniature dragons, he’d been unsure how to feel about drawing the Hungarian Horntail.
His plan would’ve worked no matter what dragon he’d faced - and he intended to follow it through with the other dragons after the task as long as survived - but he’d already had a battle of will with the Horntail, and was worried his luck wouldn’t hold out again.
Newt had assured him it wasn’t luck, but he hadn’t told him just what it actually was, which didn’t really help him. After all, if it wasn’t luck, what could it be?
He sighed, hand moving to the pouch at his hip, touching it gently for the millionth time before he fiddled with his wand. He murmured the spell he wanted under his breath, practicing the motion with his wand. It wasn’t a complicated spell, but he didn’t want to risk anything in the heat of the moment.
He’d spent the last two hours listening to the other champions compete - the roars and the screams - the final cheers of success.
It relieved him at least that his fellow contestants had all survived to this point, but it didn’t assure him of his own safety.
He took a deep breath, knowing he would be called any moment, and on queue, his name reverberated through the tent.
Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed to his feet, and left the tent.
He stepped out into a rocky arena, most of it blocked from his view. He could hear the hush from the crowd, feel the prickling of hundreds of gazes on him.
He only had a moment’s notice - his senses screaming danger - before dragon’s fire shot towards him with a roar.
He dodged, just barely making it free, when he threw up the strongest shield he could - coming around to face the dragon squarely.
The shield blocked the worst of the dragon’s next spurt of fire, though it did still singe his sleeve.
Even as he patted it out, he began to speak, sweat trickling down the back of his neck.
“Not a very nice greeting.” He mused, keeping his voice even as he looked up to face the Horntail. As luck would have it, it was the same one he’d faced months earlier in the reserve, and he met the dragon’s gaze head on.
“You.” She hissed. Steam billowing from her snout. “Come to trick me again? You are but a hatchling.” She scoffed, teeth snapping at him.
Harry’s chin shot up despite himself, and he reached for the pouch at his hip, wand in his other hand.
“I never tricked you. I helped you get your eggs back.”
“Only for them to steal them again.” She shot fire at him again, and it was by the skin of his teeth that he managed to cut through the flames. He heard his hair crackle, heard the screams in the crowd, but he blocked it out.
“I’ll help you escape, you and your eggs.”
“I could eat you instead.”
“And eat your eggs as well.” He pulled them from the pouch at his hip, and she snarled, but didn’t move any closer. The smoke of her breath obscured them from view, and Harry was glad, because he was probably about to break a million and one rules.
“What do you want? Your kind never give without taking.”
“They gave you a fake egg. I need it.” The dragon regarded him carefully, still angry, still distrustful, but not completely disregarding him.
“You will free me, and return my hatchlings to me in return for the false egg.” It was a statement, not a question, but Harry nodded anyways. “You would trust me not to eat you anyways.”
Harry gave a wry smile.
“I promise, I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”
The dragon snorted, but didn’t attack him again. Instead, she reared up, and shot flames up and out, obscuring them further, blocking out the crowd. There was further screams, but the dragon just looked back to Harry.
“Fulfill your promise, little wizard.”
Harry didn’t hesitate. He enlarged her eggs and the bag Newt had helped him create for this purpose, with hooks for a dragon’s talons, and with another flick of his wrist, unlocked the manacle around the dragon’s leg.
She regarded him a moment longer, and he watched in those terrifying eyes as she considered eating him regardless.
Instead, she swooped uncomfortably close, hooked up her eggs, and shot off into the sky.
Spells shot after her but she dodged them easily, and then she was but a speck.
Harry clambered over the rocks and grabbed the golden egg from the mock nest in the centre of the ring.
When the smoke cleared, he lifted it into the air to raucous applause.
He caught the gaze of the two ministry men who’d been sent to oversee things, saw the impotent anger on their faces, and smirked.
They were going to regret forcing him into this.