Imagine Snapdragons

In time, the pitter-patter of feet passing by the tent ceased and was replaced by the roar of an overexcited crowd, eagerly awaiting a good show over in the stands beyond the tent flaps. Bagman poked his head out of the tent's other end, and satisfied that everyone had taken their seats, returned to the champions.

"The youngest lady first," he said, offering the purple bag to Oleandra, who gingerly reached inside.

Oleandra drew a small, lifelike model of a red dragon wearing a little cardboard sign around its neck marked with the number 'three' from the bag. It had amusing little whiskers on its face, and it was nearly completely scarlet.

"Ah, an excellent draw!" laughed Bagman uproariously. "A Chinese Fireball; this one will give us quite a show! Now, Miss Delacour…?"

Fleur Delacour withdrew a Swedish Short-Snout from the bag, her face paling even further upon reading the number 'one' tied around its little blue neck. It was a rather slender Dragon, with beautiful, azure-coloured iridescent scales and shining eyes.

Next up was Harry, who obtained a Hungarian Horntail, wearing the number 'four.' A spiny little bugger to be sure, a little ball of whirling death, flashing fangs and sharp claws. Oleandra pitied Harry; the real one was sure to be much bigger, and much more fearsome.

And lastly, Viktor Krum stuck his hand in the bag with quiet resolve; he already knew he was second. He withdrew a Welsh Green, and his frown eased somewhat— this one looked much less fearsome than any of the other three. Oleandra knew about this variety of Dragons; they were rather weak and cowardly compared to other subspecies.

Bagman then pulled Harry aside, claiming he wanted a word with him, and they both exited the tent for a few moments, before coming back in. Oleandra looked curiously at the pair; what exactly had the man wanted with Harry? The boy seemed just as confused as she was.

The sharp sound of a whistle soon reminded Bagman that he was needed elsewhere.

"Miss Delacour, if you'll please follow me?" Bagman shouted as he hurried out, pushing the tent flaps out of his way.

The full unmitigated wave of noise coming from the crowd outside penetrated the tent the moment the flaps opened, further spooking Fleur Delacour, who still shakily got to her feet and followed Bagman outside. The first match of the first task had just begun!

The tent was not particularly well insulated against the noise, but the roar of the crowd often drowned Bagman's commentary, making it difficult to glean any useful information about what was going on outside. Whatever she was doing, it didn't seem to be going well; from what Oleandra could understand, Delacour was attempting to hypnotize the dragon with her Veela powers. She was probably having trouble putting it under with all the noise the crowd was making, Oleandra decided. And finally, after more than a quarter of an hour…

"She's done it!" Bagman shouted gleefully amidst a wave of applause. "She's got the golden egg! Our first champion has succeeded; one down, three to go! Mr. Krum, if you please!"

Upon hearing the whistle, Viktor Krum rose to his feet and awkwardly made his way out of the tent, and was greeted with a fresh new blast of noisy cheers. Must be nice to be popular… Oleandra and Harry, the two Hogwarts champions, were now left alone in the tent.

"Looks like we're the only ones left," said Oleandra nervously. "It can't be worse than having to face the Basilisk, right?"

Harry didn't answer; he was staring resolutely at his feet.

"Too nervous to talk, huh?" said Oleandra.

Seeing that Harry still wasn't answering, Oleandra began formulating strategies. Luckily, Daphne had filled her combat robes' pockets with all sorts of potions; one of them being an Ice Potion, which protected one from flames, just like a Flame-Freezing Charm. The only problem was, dragon fire burned a lot hotter than regular flames; she had no idea whether or not she'd escape unscathed from a direct hit from her dragon's breath.

'If only I'd focused on my blasted constellation spell!' Oleandra berated herself inwardly. 'With that much water under my command, I'd have made quick work of the overgrown lizard! Why did I have to get so bloody fixated on bloody clothing swapping magic?'

"Not wearing the badge today?" said Harry abruptly, interrupting Oleandra's thoughts.

"What badge?" asked Oleandra in utter confusion.

"The Potter Stinks badge," cried Harry, his bottled-up emotions spilling all at once due to the stress of having to face a fire-breathing dragon in the near future. "Don't lie; I saw you wearing one!"

Oleandra was only shocked for a moment; and then she started giggling uncontrollably.

"Something funny?" yelled Harry, his voice trembling slightly.

"That's what you were so mad about?" chortled Oleandra, wiping a tear of hilarity from her face. "I threw that thing away a long time ago when I found out the badges could swap between 'Support Oleandra' and 'Potter Stinks.' I'd completely forgotten about it 'till now."

"O-oh," Harry simply said.

Oleandra was astounded by the sheer absurdity of the situation; here she was about to fight a gigantic fire-breathing lizard, and she was bickering with a friend about a meaningless misunderstanding!

"Thanks for the laugh," said Oleandra with a slight smile. "I really needed that."

At that moment, an inhuman shriek shook the tent, followed by an eruption of cheers.

"I can't believe it! He's done it! He's got the egg!" yelled Bagman's magically enhanced voice from outside the tent. "That took some nerve, though that little stunt of his will cost him some points!"

The cheers cut off briefly while the judges showed the scores that they had assigned him; and the applause redoubled shortly afterwards. Krum hadn't even taken five minutes to achieve his task; that was fast!

The whistle blew again, and Bagman called out Oleandra's name.

"Well, it looks like this is it," said Oleandra with renewed determination. "Good luck to you, Harry."

"Good luck to you too," said Harry, with a strange expression on his face.

And Oleandra strode out of the tent.