CH 51

Awful things happen to wizards who mess with time, Harry, he remembered Hermione tell him.

He had stopped listening to her, though.

When he reached the newly built arena it was fairly obvious where he was meant to be. The large, white tent with all the reporters and headteachers outside.

Rather than squeeze past them all, Harry slipped in through the side.

All three of the other champions were there. Cedric looked pale, but determined, Krum was brooding, as he often seemed to be, frowning at one of the tent poles and the french witch was looking rather confident. Harry wasn't sure he liked any of them enough to warn them about the dragons.

'You're all here,' Bagman boomed enthusiastically. He was trailed by a stern looking Mr Crouch and his loyal lapdog, Percy Weasley.

'Stick your hand in the bag to draw out your opponent,' Mr Crouch instructed tersely. 'Your task will be to retrieve the golden egg.'

And there I was at the World cup thinking I would never be stupid enough to try and steal an egg from a dragon.

'You first, Mr Diggory.' Bagman clapped him firmly on the back. 'Home team has to set an example.' Cedric dipped his hand into the bag rather gingerly. It came out clutching a short-faced, silvery-blue dragon, that twisted and hissed in his palm. He didn't look too surprised to be holding a small model dragon.

'And you, Mr Krum.'

The Bulgarian seeker stomped across and all but snatched his dragon from the proffered back. He'd ended up with a red, bulging-eyed creature that prowled along the length of his palm, snorting small bursts of fire and stretching its bright crimson wings.

'Miss Delacour.'

So that's her name.

The Delacour girl looked really rather pale now in comparison to how confident she'd looked earlier, but when her fist came out clutching a green-brown dragon that seemed more content to curl up and sleep on her hand than do anything dramatic, her colour returned.

Percy turned and thrust the bag at him rather rudely. 'Potter,' he said coldly.

Harry returned his stare with equal iciness until the Weasley boy looked away, then reached into the bag. His fingers met with something warm and small. It wriggled. He drew it out of the bag to have a look.

It was as black as his wand, covered in jagged scales and spines, serpent-like and quite angry. Harry watched it writhe along his palm, spitting small plumes of fire in every direction.

'So Mr Diggory gets the Swedish Short-Snout, Mr Krum the Chinese Fireball, Miss Delacour the Welsh Green and Mr Potter has the Hungarian Horntail.' Ludo Bagman was clearly very excited for everything to start.

'We will proceed in that order,' Mr Crouch added wearily. He didn't seem too happy with his fellow organiser. 'At the sound of the cannon you need only go through the entrance and the task will have begun.'

There was dull boom in the background.

'I guess that means you're out preparation time, Cedric,' Bagman joked. 'Go show them why Hogwarts has won this tournament the most times.'

Cedric shot the man a look filled with a surprising amount of ire for a Hufflepuff, then hurried out through the tent entrance. Ludo Bagman, Crouch and Percy slipped out through the side of the tent, both of the main organisers were judges and needed to be present.

Harry eyed the dragon on his palm, carefully noting the barbed tail it had been named for. The tiny dragon stared back up at him, unintimidated. It's yellow eyes bored angrily into his, then, in a flurry of movement, it turned and seized the tip of his finger between its jaws. Harry swore and flicked it's side until it let go.

The small one bites.

There was a roar from the crowd outside and the enraged bellow of a dragon.

'It seems a bit unfair we can't watch as well,' Harry muttered. Krum, who was still standing nearby, chuckled. 'It would not be 'Whomever went disadvantage.'

fair,' he first would

shrugged. have a

The Bulgarian had a point, but Harry thought it was rather unfair he had to compete at all and thus had little sympathy for his fellow champions. They had signed up for this willingly.

The cannon boomed once more and Krum straightened up. Discarding his model, he gave Harry and the Beauxbatons witch a nod, then vanished out into the entrance. Harry hoped he survived. He was a good seeker, a little surly, but nice enough and probably his favourite of the other champions.

'Are you not nervous?' It was the first time the witch had spoken to him since she had asked about the stew upon arriving. Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

'I've seen that dragon close up when it was caged,' she embellished. 'I didn't want to be near it then. I certainly don't now.'

That explained a lot. None of the others had been surprised because they had already known about the dragons as well.

'They're all pretty dangerous,' Harry replied earnestly. His statement was punctuated by the furious roars of the Chinese Fireball from outside.

'You are fourteen, Harry,' the girl reminded him. 'There is no way you could have learned as much magic as us. We are the best of our schools.' He thought that was rather arrogant of her, even if it would have been true for any other. 'I have no choice but to compete,' he responded calmly. 'Why fear something if fearing it will not help,' he searched his mind for her first name but found nothing, 'I'm afraid I don't know your name,' he admitted.

'Fleur Delacour,' the girl told him very coldly. 'I will let you read it off the Triwizard Cup at the end, if you are still alive.'

Harry felt that pretty much ended any chance of conversation with the haughty french girl.

The cannon's thunderous report sounded at that moment anyway, so if the conversation had been going to continue it was over now.

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