Chapter 3

Harry Potter entered the champions' tent and saw that the other three competitors were already there waiting. He greeted the others with a simple "good afternoon," before taking a seat in the nearest chair and closing his eyes.

Viktor Krum was leaning against one of the tentpoles with his arms crossed. Like Harry, Krum had his eyes closed with a calm expression on his face, as if he were meditating. His headmaster hadn't accompanied him to the tent, and the young Quidditch star hadn't shown much interest in speaking with anyone else. Fleur Delacour was in one corner of the tent speaking with Madame Maxime, possibly going over some last-minute strategy. She looked slightly paler than usual, but otherwise didn't show any outward signs of nervousness.

Cedric Diggory, on the other hand, was completely on edge. His face was ghostly pale, and he was pacing back and forth around the tent, muttering to himself.

"How can you be so calm, Potter?" asked Cedric, turning his attention to the youngest champion.

Harry opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow.

"I took a calming draught before coming here?" Harry said, his expression unchanged. Cedric seemed to believe the story and resumed his march around the tent, now murmuring something about calming draughts. Harry simply shook his head and closed his eyes again to resume his calming exercises and focus his magic.

Harry was sure that both Fleur and Krum knew what the task was, just like they had in his original timeline. Their demeanours were calm, and any anxiety they may have felt about the impending task was well hidden. Each of them had clearly had time to research the best ways to neutralise a dragon, and with the help of their headmasters, they would've had no trouble developing multiple strategies ahead of time.

Diggory clearly had no clue what was about to happen. In his original timeline it had been Harry who warned Cedric about the dragons, but this time he felt no such obligation, and it seemed that no one else had either. The older Hufflepuff's distressed appearance and relentless pacing was really quite pathetic.

"Oi, Diggory, do you even know what the task is?" asked Harry, just loud enough so that only the champions heard.

Cedric glared at him, a little anger slipping into his expression.

"Why, Potter, do you think I'd actually help you?" mocked Diggory. Harry shrugged in response.

"No thank you, I've known about it since the night they arrived," Harry replied casually, noticing the almost-smirking look Krum gave him. Fleur simply raised an eyebrow and went back to observing her competition.

She almost felt sorry for Harry – almost. He may be young, but if he wanted to play with the grown-ups, then he'd have to deal with the consequences. Maybe the tournament officials would be merciful and disqualify him, after what was sure to be a lousy performance. She had to give him some credit though; the boy was in over his head, and yet he seemed calm and collected, unlike the Hogwarts champion, who was a nervous mess.

"And what exactly are they, Potter?" asked Cedric, in a not-so-subtle attempt to gain information.

"If you really wanted to know, maybe you should've put all those housemates of yours to some use. They could've spent their free time helping you instead of making my life a living hell," Harry bit back, leaving the older boy seething.

Krum smirked again, while Fleur tilted her chin up and looked down her nose at them, as if they all were undeserving of her company.

"Ah, the four champions are here!" a female voice called from the tent's entrance. Rita Skeeter, Wizarding Britain's most prominent mudslinging reporter, had appeared at the entrance of the champions' tent, photographer in tow.

"My dears, what are your thoughts on the task at hand?" she asked with an insincere smile plastered on her face, subtly eyeing Harry as she spoke.

"Are you excited about the task? Nervous, even? Champions have died in this tournament, after all. How does it feel knowing you may be moments away from joining them?"

When no one answered her, she turned her full attention to Harry.

"Harry, my dear, are you ready to admit you put your name in the Goblet of Fire and ask to be removed from the task?" she inquired, beaming at youngest champion, who did not return her smile.

"Rita, Rita, Rita..." he countered in a low voice, his eyes narrowing. "I don't like you; you know? I don't think any of us have anything to say to you after the garbage you've been writing since the Weighing of the Wands. You won't get a single quote out me, but you'd better make sure that anything you do report is truthful, because if not, then we are going to have problems between us."

For a brief moment Rita's lip curled into a sneer, but she quickly recovered her smug smile.

"My dear Harry, I regret to inform you that as a celebrity and a champion, you are a public figure, and the public has the right to know the truth about you," she explained in a patronizing tone.

While she was speaking, Rita's acid green Quick-Quotes Quill was furiously scribbling back and forth along a floating scroll of parchment, no doubt inventing another story about Harry. Just weeks before, she had written a salacious article describing how he and Granger had been dating in secret for the past two years, but that she had broken up with him the night of the champions' selection, because she felt she could no longer trust him. Harry gave the quill a dirty look, and in a flash, he drew his wand and reduced the scroll to ashes.

"How dare you?!" Skeeter shouted, incensed by the teen's actions. She was about to give Harry a piece of her mind when he redirected his wand at her, and with a simple flick he sent the foul woman flying out of the tent, her photographer immediately running after her.

"Bloody banshee," he spat, not heeding the looks of surprise on the other champions' faces. Before anyone could say anything, they were joined in the tent by Bagman, Crouch, Dumbledore, and Karkaroff. Bagman was so excited that he was practically bouncing, wearing his old Quidditch robes and carrying a small sack with him made out of purple silk.

"Gather 'round, please," he said in a jovial voice, beckoning to the champions.

"The man is either a sadist, or a complete buffoon," Harry thought.

The champions gathered around Bagman as he started to explain the task.

"For your first task, in order to succeed you will have to demonstrate superior courage and skill! Yes, champions, today you will be encountering a nesting mother dragon! Your task - to collect the golden egg!"

Cedric paled even further at Bagman's pronouncement, if that was even possible, while Krum and Fleur just scowled. Harry's lack of a reaction did not go unnoticed by Dumbledore, causing the headmaster to wonder what exactly the boy knew, and what he had planned.

"There are four dragons - one for each of you - and inside this bag there are miniature versions of each dragon," Bagman explained.

"You will reach into the bag and pull out a miniature, which will determine which dragon you face, and the order you will be performing the task. Ladies first, please," he continued, extending the bag to Fleur.

A look of determination on her face, she reached into the bag and pulled out the miniature Welsh Green with a number two around its neck.

"Ms. Delacour will go second and will face the Common Welsh Green."

Crouch wrote something down in a small book and nodded. Krum went next, drawing the Chinese Fireball with the number three, and Cedric drew the Swedish Short-Snout with the hated number one. With a strange sense of déjà vu, Harry reached into the bag and brought out the miniature Hungarian Horntail, the most dangerous of the four dragons.

"Be careful with your dragon, Mr. Potter. We had a hard time procuring a fourth dragon on short notice, and this one is still quite savage. I advise extreme caution," warned Bagman.

Harry simply nodded and returned to his seat, ignoring Dumbledore's speech about bravery, friendship, and whatever else the old man was rambling about. It wasn't long before the school heads and tournament officials left the tent, leaving the champions to make their preparations.

A short while later, they heard the magically amplified voice of Ludo Bagman saluting the audience and officially opening the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. There was an audible gasp from the crowd, as Bagman announced what the task would consist of, and Harry could just imagine everyone betting on his death.

The tension was palpable in the champions' tent, and Cedric was so tense he looked as if he could pop at any moment. The sudden roar from the outside told them that the first dragon had been taken into the pit, and sure enough, Cedric was promptly summoned from the tent and informed that he had thirty minutes to complete the task.

The other champions tried to imagine what was happening outside, as they listened to the "oohs" and "ahhs" of the crowd, peppered with Bagman's excited commentary. Finally, after about twenty-five minutes, the audience's joyful roar told them that Cedric had succeeded in retrieving his egg.

Fleur was next to face her challenge. She walked out of the tent with her head held high, just as Cedric re-joined them and plopped down in a chair, clearly relieved. Her task had barely begun when the dragon suddenly grew quiet, the sound of applause following a few moments later. According to Bagman's commentary, she had completed her task by managing to place the dragon in some sort of trance. She also managed to elicit a few laughs from the audience, and they'd later learn that the sleeping dragon had snorted fire at her when she tried to slip by it to collect the egg, scorching her robes.

After another short break, it was Krum's turn. Bagman enthusiastically described Krum's aggressive stance, and how he immediately started casting curses at the dragon. Apparently, at least some of them found their mark, because everyone started to cheer loudly for the Durmstrang champion. However, it seemed that in its daze, the dragon had trampled some of her eggs, which would cost Krum points, according to Bagman.

Finally, it was Harry's turn. He calmly walked to the tent flap and waited to be called.

"Good luck, 'leetle boy," taunted Fleur, tossing her hair back and smirking at him. Harry ignored her, hearing Ludo Bagman calling his name.

"And now, the last challenger of the day, the fourth champion of the Triwizard Tournament, HARRY POTTER!"

Harry exited through the flap and was temporary blinded as his eyes adjusted to the outside light. Boos rained down from the stands in every direction. Harry almost had to laugh. Thanks to him, the four houses of Hogwarts were finally united with a common goal - hating him.

Harry smirked at the thought and advanced into the pit, where he saw the massive Horntail crouched protectively over her eggs, her yellow eyes focused on him, as her spiked tail whipped back and forth behind her. A glint of gold could be seen within the clutch of greyish eggs, no doubt the golden egg he was supposed to retrieve.

"Begin!" Bagman's voice sounded over audience's vitriol. Harry walked forward, casting a Sonorus on himself.

"~~Greetings, noble dragon, I mean no harm to you or to your young~~," he hissed in Parseltongue.

The audience collectively gasped at what they were hearing, then fell silent. Unfortunately for Harry, the dragon didn't react at all like he was expecting. Instead of calmly replying to him like the other dragons he'd spoken to, the Horntail completely ignored Harry's speech and focused on him as if he were prey.

By no means a fool, Harry realised something was wrong with the dragon and decided to initiate Plan B, discretely summoning his Firebolt and attempting to engage the dragon in conversation one more time.

"~~Great one, noble mother, much like you, I stand before you against my will~~," he hissed again.

This time, the dragon roared and thrust its neck out towards Harry, propelling a blast of fire directly at the young champion. Another gasp came from the audience as the dragon breathed its fire, though there were some that squealed in glee, thinking their betting on Potter's death was about to pay off.

Harry Potter, however, was not in the mood to cooperate. He raised a powerful shield in front of him, and the jet of flame slammed helplessly against it before fizzling out.

The audience was amazed. As far as they knew, no magical shield was powerful enough to withstand dragon's fire, and yet Harry seemed to accomplish it with little to no effort. Dumbledore in particular was taken aback by what he had just seen, his brows furrowing as he contemplated the magic Harry Potter had just performed.

"~~I AM TALKING!~~" Harry hissed loudly, now starting to get really angry.

It was the first time that a dragon hadn't replied to his Parseltongue. He didn't count Norberta from his first year, as it was still a baby at the time. However, the dragon in front of him was no baby. It was a full-fledged mother dragon, and she was refusing to acknowledge him.

There had to be something wrong with the beast. Harry was forced out of his reverie when the dragon suddenly strained against its chains, and with a mighty roar broke free, beating her leathery wings and spewing fire into the air. The crowd screamed in fear, and some even made for the exits, even though the audience stands were supposedly well protected.

The dragon pounced at Harry, who ducked, rolled away from the dragon's claws, and took shelter behind a rock formation. After a few deep breaths, Harry peeked around the rock and cast a Reductor Curse in Parseltongue, hitting the dragon in the head and blasting away her left horn. The dragon went ballistic, roaring in pain and smashing her body against the rocks, attempting to get to Harry. His rocky shelter wouldn't hold up to the onslaught for long, so he had to make a choice. He could finish the dragon on the spot and reveal his true power, or he could take a slightly riskier approach and hold on to his secret a while longer.

He sensed the Firebolt nearby and made his decision. Summoning his broom to him, he jumped on it while it was still in motion and took off vertically into the air. The Horntail immediately beat her wings and followed him into the sky, as did the eyes of everyone in the stands, who all rose from their seats in astonishment as they witnessed Harry attempting to outfly a dragon.

The Horntail soon became frustrated with her inability to catch up to her smaller prey, and decided to switch tactics and try to blast him out of the air with repeated bursts of dragon fire, which Harry luckily avoided by employing some of his favourite Quidditch techniques.

Once he had flown high enough and put a good distance between him and the dragon below, Harry flipped his broom in the opposite direction and few straight at the Horntail. He raised his wand towards the dragon and cast an orange curse at its head, then accelerated the broom to its top speed. His plan was to overtake the spell on his broom and pass by the dragon before the curse made impact, but he had to improvise when the Horntail was able to track his movement and opened her jaws for an attack.

Harry managed to twist the broom away from the dragon enough to avoid its jaws, but by doing so, he slowed down enough that he wasn't able to completely avoid the blast, as the orange curse exploded inside the dragon's mouth.

The Triwizard spectators were shocked and horrified by the sight of the dragon's head and upper neck blowing up from the inside. The beast's body jerked once in the air before plummeting to the ground with a loud thump.

As for Harry, he had fortunately manoeuvred his broom far enough away to avoid any direct damage from his spell, but the force of the explosion was enough to hurl him and his Firebolt in the opposite direction. He tumbled through the air, flipping end over end so violently that he was separated from his broom.

The audience was too shocked to move, as they watched the Boy-Who-Lived speeding towards the earth, his broom well out of reach. Everyone was waiting for someone to do something to come to the boy's aid, but before anyone could react, Harry's body suddenly froze in mid-air, still about a hundred feet from the ground. Gasps and shouts rang out from the bewildered audience, as Harry hovered in the air for a moment and slowly started descending.

Shaking his head, he raised his wand and summoned his broom back to him. When it arrived, Harry got back on and looked around to gauge the reaction of the crowd, which had gone completely silent. He scanned the faces throughout the stands and saw a mixture of shock, disbelief, and even fear. Harry snorted. He hated them. Well, maybe not all of them, but most of them.

Before he turned his back on the stands, his eyes sought out one person in particular, and finally fell upon the blue-eyed, blonde beauty he had been dreaming about for years, who was looking at him in wonder. Satisfied with her reaction, he smirked and turned around to face the judges and the dragon handlers, who were all gaping at him. Harry gave them a spiteful look and landed his broom ten feet from the eggs.

He started to walk over to pick it up his egg, but he stopped, as his curiosity got the better of him.

Harry raised his wand and whispered, "Accio golden egg," but thanks to the still-active Sonorus, everyone heard him. To his and everyone else's surprise, the egg responded to his spell and flew through the air and into Harry's arms. He was stunned for a moment, then groaned and brought his hand to his forehead, sliding it down his face as he lamented his own stupidity. He didn't know why he hadn't thought to simply summon the egg before, but if had, he could have avoided this entire mess.

"AH, FUCK!" he spat and kicked the ground. Thanks to the charm, his expletive was amplified to a shout that the entire audience heard, but everyone was too stunned to comment or admonish him. Harry startled himself with the volume of his voice, forgetting he was still under the Sonorus. He cancelled the charm, picked up the egg, and returned to the tent.

There was still no sound whatsoever coming from the dragon pit, and as he re-entered the tent, Harry had to stop himself from laughing as he pictured the looks on everyone's faces.