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┄┄ .•* 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟓 *•. ┄┄

𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒊, 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒆, 𝒐𝒉, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒌

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On the 22nd of November, five minutes to one, Ron and Hermione were sitting in front of the fire playing Wizard's chess. Well, Hermione was getting her arse kicked by Ron, but who cares? Ron was about to make the final move that would make him win when the portrait door swung open and in came a panting Harry.

"What happened to you?" Ron asked him standing up and Hermione smirked and bent down so she could whisper to the pieces.

"Could you guys be so kind and move around so I'm winning? You won't have to have any more losses that way, and we can have a sleepover and a fort party afterward!" Hermione whispered and the pieces started moving around the board, Hermione grinning. "Checkmate!" she exclaimed and Ron looked around at her, then at the board, and gaped.

"You cheated! That wasn't like that before!"

"How dare you, Ronald Weasley! I did not cheat! I asked!" Hermione said, gasping dramatically but before Ron could respond there was a voice that made the three jump.

"I did that too! Beat Moony's arse on my third year because the Queen was in love with me," they heard Sirius's head say from the fire and Hermione snorted.

"I bribed them with sleepovers and fort parties!" She grinned.

"'Atta girl!" Sirius barked out in laughter as Ron gaped and grumbled under his breath. Harry however wasn't for jokes at the moment, though he was amused by the interaction.

"Sirius—how're you doing?"

Sirius seemed to sober up and frowned at Harry. "Nevermind me, how are you?" he said seriously.

"I'm—fine." Before long Harry couldn't help it anymore and Ron and Hermione watched in amusement as he started ranting about everything wrong going on in his life, sometimes butting in with comments of their own:

 "Hermione threatened the common room." 

"I was joking. . . ." 

"You gave a first-year nightmares!" 

"How is that my fault?"

". . . and now Hagrid's just shown me what's coming in the first task, and it's dragons, Sirius, and I'm a goner," he finished desperately.

"Dragons?!" Ron shrieked.

Sirius looked at him, eyes full of concern, eyes that had not yet lost the look that Azkaban had given them—that deadened, haunted look. "Dragons we can deal with, Harry, but we'll get to that in a minute—I haven't got long here . . . I've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about."

"What?" said Harry.

"Karkaroff," said Sirius. "Harry, he was a Death Eater. You know what Death Eaters are, don't you?"

"Yes—he—what?"

"He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year—to keep an eye on him. Moody caughtKarkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."

"Karkaroff got released?" Ron and Harry asked at the same time, while Hermione watched bored. "Why did they release him?"

"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," said Sirius bitterly. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named names . . . he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place. . . . He's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well."

"Okay," said Harry slowly. "But . . . are you saying Karkaroffput my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me from competing."

"We know he's a good actor," said Sirius, "because he convinced the Ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he? Now, I've been keeping an eye on the Daily Prophet, Harry—"

"—you and the rest of the world," said Harry bitterly.

"—and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius said hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but I don't think so, somehow. I think someone tried to stop him from getting to Hogwarts. I think someone knew their job would be a lot more difficult with him around. And no one's going to look into it too closely; Mad-Eye's heard intruders a bit too often. But that doesn't mean he can't still spot the real thing. Moody was the best Auror the Ministry ever had."

"So . . . what are you saying?" said Harry slowly. "Karkaroff'strying to kill me? But—why?"

Sirius hesitated. "I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly."The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone set off the Dark Mark . . . and then—did you hear about that Ministry of Magic witch who's gone missing?"

"Bertha Jorkins?" said Harry.

"Exactly . . . she disappeared in Albania, and that's definitely where Voldemort was rumored to be last . . . and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?"

"Yeah, but . . . it's not very likely she'd have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?" said Harry. 

"Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins," said Sirius grimly. "She was at Hogwarts when I was, a few years above your dad and me. And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a good combination, Harry. I'd say she'd be very easy to lure into a trap."

"You knew her, or you knew her?" Hermione smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I just knew her, Mia," Sirius rolled his eyes and the other boys looked simultaneously amused and confused by the interaction.

"So . . . so Voldemort could have found out about the tournament?" said Harry. "Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?"

"I don't know," said Sirius slowly, "I just don't know . . .Karkaroff doesn't strike me as the type who'd go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can't help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident."

"Looks like a really good plan from where I'm standing," said Harry grinning bleakly. "They'll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff."

"The dragons won't kill you, Pronglest," Hermione smiled at him. "If VoldyMoldy didn't, who said a bunch of dragons would?" she asked and Ron and Harry gaped at her as Sirius tried to prevent not bursting out laughing.

"Did you just. . . . Did you just call You-Know-Who. . . ." Ron stuttered lost for words.

"VoldyMoldy?" Harry asked in amusement.

"Not so scary with that name, innit?" Hermione said. "Imagine him running around telling people 'I'm Lord VoldyMoldy!', nobody would take him siriusly," Hermione said and the three couldn't resist bursting out laughing.

"Right—these dragons," said Sirius, speaking very quickly now after sobering up. "There's a way, Harry. Don't be tempted to try a Stunning Spell—dragons are strong and too powerfully magical to be knocked out by a single Stunner, you need about half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon—"

"Yeah, I know, I just saw," said Harry.

"But you can do it alone," said Sirius. "There is a way, and a simple spell's all you need. Just—"

But a noise came from upstairs before he could finish, somebody was coming downstairs. They urged Sirius to go away and with a nod, the face in the fire disappeared as Lavender came tumbling out of the stairs. "Ah, it's you three. Try to keep it down, some of us need their beauty sleep," she said condescendingly and went back up.

"Bitch needs to hibernate then. . . ." Hermione muttered and Harry and Ron chuckled. "Anyway, Harry, you already have it all figured out!"

"I do?"

"Why, of course! You mastered the summoning charm. You whip out your wand and call out your broom, and Bada Bim Bada Boom, you fly away and catch whatever it is they'll make you catch because not even them are mad enough to make you fight a dragon," Hermione said and Harry gasped.

"That's brilliant, Mimi," he laughed hugging her.

"What's with people and calling me Mimi?" Hermione asked and they just laughed.

They spent the rest of the time they had until the first task with Harry, practicing and perfecting the Summoning Charm, plus some more that could come in handy. The night before the task Harry was a mess of jumbled nerves and Ron convinced them all to meditate—he had taken a liking to it. Hermione followed both of them to their dorm and they sat in a circle in the room, cross-legged. Ron started humming, along Harry was trying as hard as he could to clear his mind. After taking a picture Hermione too started meditating.

She let her mind wander around, thoughts all running freely in her mind. She thought about Hermione's mom. Hermione was probably adopted which explained the difference between her and the Grangers. But then a thought punctured her mind like a drill to a wall. What if she was her? The woman, her mother, when the Dementors attacked talked about her coming back. Even James had mentioned it. What if she truly belonged to this world? No. That would be a long shot and too far-fetched. But then again Lily mentioned her mother as opposed to Hermione's mother. That should give her something to hope for. But that would mean her hopes could be crushed, and Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to take that risk.

"Now, let's clean our minds and think of three things we are looking forward to," Ron said in a soothing monotone voice and Hermione had to bite her lip not to laugh.

"Not dying. . . . Not becoming a barbecue. . . . The end of the task. . . ." Harry answered in the same tone and Hermione snorted, only for Ron to open one eye and narrow it at her.

"For it to work you have to focus, Mimi," he said and she gulped and nodded.

"Uh—Well—Food?—Good Show?—Dragons. . . ." Hermione said and Ron's eyelids moved to indicate he had rolled his eyes.

"You're looking forward to the Dragon that will kill me?" Harry asked gaping at her.

"Not the part where you die," Hermione said rolling her eyes. "Not totally. . . ."

"Not—Do you want me to die?" Harry deadpanned.

"Of course not, Mini Prongs—Jeez, you Potters and dramatics. . . ." Hermione said again rolling her eyes, only for them to go wide as she realized her slip up. Harry and Ron both snap their eyes open and frown at Hermione.

"Potters?" they asked in unison and Hermione tried to quickly come up with a plan.

"Elvendork."

"What?"

"Quidditch."

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry who shrugged.

"Imma head to bed, fellas," Hermione said standing up. "Night, night!"

She then hurriedly scurried away downstairs to the common room. As soon as she reached it she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She should be more careful.

"You should be more careful," a voice drawled and she looked around at the empty common room to find a man, not much older than her sitting on a sofa. The man greatly resembled Sirius. He had the same elegant (well, Sirius's wasn't the last time she saw him,) black hair and steely grey eyes. Hermione's mind instantly realized this was none other than Regulus Black and she couldn't help but gape at him. The man in question rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't you be more used to seeing dead people by now?"

"Well, you're the last one I expected," she deadpanned after gathering herself in order not to look like a fish out of its bowl.

"Why?" he asked now really confused, then his mouths opened in realization, "They still haven't told you, did they?" 

"Told me what?" Hermione frowned.

"It's not my secret to tell, Mia, but I am sure as hell giving those bastards my intake on it," he grumbled.

"I'm officially lost," Hermione said, "How come nobody tells me shit? I should know if it concerns me! I should bloody hell know who I am!"

"Seconded," Regulus nodded as Hermione proceeded to seat on the sofa opposite to him.

"How come you're here, anyway?" said Hermione frowning at the Sirius-look-alike.

"Death is boring," said Regulus shrugging, "Besides I wanted to introduce myself."

"Why?"

"Because you're so bloody awesome, that's why," he said sarcastically but, if Hermione caught it, she didn't show it. She grinned at him instead.

"Thank you, Reggie!" She beamed, "Now I can sleep with my mind clear, knowing that once more my awesomeness was confirmed! Night!" she said and without waiting for a (surely) sarcastic remark from Regulus, she darted up the stairs.

Said man frowned at nothing in particular. Why was she being kept in the dark?

The next morning, the atmosphere in the school was one of great tension and excitement. Lessons were to stop at midday, giving all the students time to get down to the dragons' enclosure—though of course, they didn't yet know what they would find there.

Hermione and Ron had to basically drag a numb Harry Potter to the Great Hall so he could eat something. Time was behaving in a more peculiar fashion than ever, rushing past in great dollops, so that one moment they seemed to be sitting down in their first lesson, History of Magic, and the next, walking into lunch . . . and then (where had the morning gone? the last of the dragon-free hours?), Professor McGonagall was hurrying over to Harry in the Great Hall. Lots of people were watching including his two worried best-friends. Well, including a worried Ron. Hermione was grinning anxiously looking forward to seeing the dragons.

"Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now. . . . You have to get ready for your first task."

"Okay," said Harry, standing up, his fork falling onto his plate with a clatter.

"Try not to die," Hermione said. "If you do, what music do you want for your funeral?"

"Hermione!" Ron gaped at her, then turned to Harry, "Go on, then. We'll be there, you'll be fine."

"Yeah," said Harry in a voice that was most unlike his own.

After lunch had finished Hermione and Ron hurried to the arena. Hermione spotted Blaise and Theo in the stands and subtly made Ron stir away, so they were seated with her new friends. Not that the redhead took notice, too worried about his best mate's life. The whole school watched as Cedric, Krum, and Fleur fought bravely and managed to get the eggs at last. All the while Hermione had been cheering (screaming) for them—except for Krum, who managed to kill baby dragons; she along with Charlie could be seen spewing a colored vocabulary at the Bulgarian—, which made Blaise—who unfortunately for him, was next to her—wince and cover his ears as Theo laughed at his expense. Ron couldn't even bother to take notice as he was too preoccupied.

Then in came Harry.

There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at him from stands that had been magicked there since he'd last stood on this spot. And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, Harry didn't know or care. It was time to do what he had to do . . . to focus his mind, entirely and absolutely, upon the thing that was his only chance. . . .

He raised his wand. "Accio Firebolt!" he shouted.

The entirety of the audience went silent as they waited for something to happen, and then speeding through the air behind him; he turned and saw his Firebolt hurtling toward him around the edge of the woods, soaring into the enclosure, and stopping dead in midair beside him, waiting for him to mount. The crowd went mad, cheering. As fast as Harry came to view was as fast as he got the golden egg and Hermione couldn't be more proud of him, a huge smile plastered on her face that only grew bigger when she saw Lily and James positively beaming at their son.

"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is the quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"

As soon as he got off his broom, Hermione bid goodbye to the two Slytherins; seized Ron's hand, and started dragging him to the tent as the red-haired boy shouted for his best mate, his grin so wide Hermione feared it would get stuck like that.

They soon came darting inside seeing Harry sitting down. Hermione let go of Ron's hand and immediately flung her arms around Harry's neck. "That was awesome!" she squealed letting him go, so Ron could "man" hug him while congratulating the green eyes boy. Hermione promptly took a picture making Ron roll his eyes.

"Barking mad," said Ron, shaking his head. "Harry, c'mon, they'll be putting up your scores. . . ."

Picking up the golden egg and his Firebolt, feeling more elated than he would have believed possible an hour ago, Harry ducked out of the tent, Ron and Hermione by his side, talking fast.

"You were the best, you know, no competition. Cedric did this weird thing where he Transfigured a rock on the ground . . . turned it into a dog . . . he was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of him. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because he did get the egg, but he got burned as well — the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have him than the Labrador; he only just got away. And that Fleur girl tried this sort of charm, I think she was trying to put it into a trance — well, that kind of work too, it went all sleepy, but then it snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her skirt caught fire — she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand. And Krum—you won't believe this, but he didn't even think of flying! He was probably the best after you, though—"

"—Nice save," Hermione snorted and Ron ignored her.

"—Hit it with some sort of spell right in the eye. Only thing is, it went trampling around in agony and squashed half the real eggs—they took marks off for that, he wasn't supposed to do any damage to them."

"—Damage?! He killed them!" Hermione said hotly. "How would you like if I smashed your babies?"

"That was dark, Mimi," Harry said gulping, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm just saying, that bastard killed innocent babies,"

Ron drew breath as he, Hermione, and Harry reached the edge of the enclosure. Now that the Horntail had been taken away, they could see where the five judges were sitting—right at the other end, in raised seats draped in gold.

"It's marks out of ten from each one," Ron said, and Harry, squinting up the field, saw the first judge—Madame Maxime—raise her wand in the air. What looked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure eight.

"Not bad!" said Ron as the crowd applauded. "I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder. . . ."

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air.

"Looking good!" Ron yelled, thumping Harry on the back.

Next, Dumbledore. He too put up a nine. The crowd was cheering harder than ever. Ludo Bagman—ten.

"Ten?" said Harry in disbelief. "But . . . I got hurt. . . . What's he playing at?"

"He wants you to win, Harold," Hermione said rolling her eyes, "The conman probably made some bet about it and is trying to get his money back."

"Harry, don't complain!" Ron yelled excitedly.

And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand too—four.

"What?" Ron bellowed furiously as Hermione flipped the bastard off with both hands. "Four? You lousy, biased scumbag, you gave Krum ten!"

"You're tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!" said Charlie Weasley, hurrying to meet them as they set off back toward the school. "Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened—but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah—and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes. . . . Bagman wants a word, back in the champions' tent."

"Charles! Did you see that outraging mass murder that just happened out in the arena of death?" said Hermione, sounding between dramatic and serious.

"'Course I did," Charlie said with a grim nod, "Didn't you hear me shout?"

"We heard you loud and clear," Ron muttered as Harry entered the tent again. "Hermione was screaming like a banshee, too. Wonder where you get those lungs from," he said and Hermione glared at him, only to notice Regulus laugh at her expense making her flip him off. "Who are you flipping off?"

"The dead," she deadpanned and Charlie laughed, bidding them goodbye and hurrying along to owl his mother.

Moments later they were rejoined by Harry and they started to walk back around the edge of the forest, talking hard; Harry wanted to hear what the other champions had done in more detail. Then, as they rounded the clump of trees behind, a witch leaped out from behind them and Hermione inwardly groaned.

It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand-blended perfectly against them.

"Congratulations, Harry!" she said, beaming at him. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How did you feel facing that dragon? How you feel now, about the fairness of the scoring?"

"Yeah, you can have a word," said Harry savagely. "Goodbye."

And he set off back to the castle with Ron and a laughing Hermione.

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