CHAPTER XIII: The First Task

Track Thirteen: Welcome Home Son, Radical Face    

  The outside air met her skin with a bite. The wind was harsh and unforgiving. Without the sun to warm her, Circe felt chilled to the bone. She bundled her black and gold scarf tighter around her mouth, shielding it from unrelenting wind. The sun was only beginning to crest over the horizon as she trudged her way up to Gryffindor tower. 

The night before, Harry had asked her if she'd mind coming to the Gryffindor tower early the next morning to talk over last-minute preparations for the task. Although, at the time she hadn't realized that the walk up to Gryffindor tower at six would be so terribly cold. The old castle was drafty and vast, which was a poor recipe for students who enjoyed being warm. By the time Circe had reached the portrait of the fat lady, her teeth were chattering so badly that her body began to shake with it. 

The fat lady gave her a bored look, eyeing her Hufflepuff crest with poorly hidden disdain. She was only able to stare for a minute before she swung open, revealing the Gryffindor common room. Circe figured that Harry had told her to let Circe in earlier that morning. A large gust of heat rushed into Circe as she walked through the portrait hole, it felt cozy and homey. It reminded her of the burrow or the Tonks' cottage at Christmas.  

She was immediately greeted with whispered hello's from Harry and Hermione. They were engaged in a discussion by the fire, with pages of detailed notes sprawled across the floor. It was an ambitious undertaking, educating Harry on three years worth of defense spells, but the trio had a newfound sense of confidence instilled in them after Circe's revelation regarding the summoning charm. For the past few days, the three of them had been working day and night trying to perfect the summoning charm, which was O.W.L material learned during their fifth year. They were all exhausted from the rigor of their training, Hermione especially. As she had been the one to do the majority of their research, which now littered the common room floor. 

She sat down cross-legged beside the two Gryffindoors, taking in the common room. It was odd being in a common room that was not her own. She studied the diagrams of wand movements and defense spells as Harry and Hermione took to strategizing. She imagined the three of them looked half-mad, sitting there. 

The three of them chatted for another thirty or so minutes until the Gryffindor tower began to awaken. People began sleepily traipsing down the stairs, headed to breakfast or to an early morning study session. A few waved, but most did not.

Harry and Circe had agreed to miss their lessons for the day, agreeing that Harry staying alive would be exceedingly more beneficial than whatever potion Snape would have them brewing. Hermione, on the other hand, would not miss class for her own funeral. So she bid Harry and Circe goodbye, wishing Harry luck before the tournament and promising that she'd come to find him as soon as classes were dismissed.

The portrait door had barely swung closed when Ron came stomping down the stairs. Circe noticed him stop on the staircase, taking in the scene of Circe and Harry. He looked rather puzzled, having only seen Circe with Nymphadora when visiting the burrow, not expecting to see her sitting next to Harry Potter in the Gryffindor common room. 

He looked as though he was internally debating on saying something, staring between Harry and Circe. She gave him a friendly nod but Potter seemed to stare right past Ron, ignoring his blazing stare and choosing to direct his line of vision straight ahead.

Ron huffed past them, dramatically slamming the portrait hole and eliciting a shocked scream from the fat lady.

Circe raised her eyebrows, looking over at Harry.

With a sigh, he shrugged his shoulders "Ron's been acting oddly ever since the goblet spat my name out. He seemed to take it as some sort of personal offense." 

Harry had hardly dwelled on Ron the past few weeks. Of course, it still stung to see him laughing and carrying on without him but Harry had more pressing matters to deal with than Ron's immaturity. He knew Ron's distance and harshness surrounding Harry came from his own insecurity and his constant feelings of being overshadowed. But he couldn't deny how awful it felt to be left stranded and isolated from his best friend during this difficult time. 

Circe's eyebrows knitted together, trying to remember how Ron and Harry used to be before the tournament. She'd always recalled them being attached at the hip, one never going anywhere without the other. 

In an attempt to navigate away from the subject of Ron, Harry turned to her and seemed to reevaluate her presence in the Gryffindor common room.

"You know, sometimes I forget you're not a Gryffindor." He eyed the way she sat at ease against the lounge chair and the way her eyes lingered at various points around the room, taking in the new environment. 

Circe snorted and gestured to her Hufflepuff scarf, jumper, and knit mittens "Is this not enough black and gold for you?".

"-That's not what I meant" Harry started to say.

Circe laughed, her eyes dancing with light. "I know what you meant." She paused for a moment before continuing. 

"I was actually a hat stall, surprisingly enough." Harry's eyebrows raised and Circe immediately felt obliged to defend her Hufflepuff identity "But in the end, of course, I was placed in Hufflepuff." She omitted the fact that she had to outright ask the hat to be placed there.

"I'm a badger through and through, though" She raised her arm, tugging at her knit mittens. 

Harry began with an admission of his own. "I was a hat stall as well, I practically had to beg the hat to choose Gryffindor."

Circe squinted at him, tilting her head as if trying to picture him in black and gold. 

Harry realized he failed to elaborate, quickly shaking his head "I was a hat stall for Slytherin. The hat kept insisting I'd thrive and reach unimaginable positions of power, whatever that means." He seemed to surprise himself as he said it, this was a fact he had never admitted aloud to anyone.

The maledictius was surprised, to say the least. "You? In Slytherin? That's absurd!" 

Harry nodded in agreement, although he couldn't deny his thoughts often wondered to what he might have become, had he been sorted into Slytherin. "At least the hat made the right decisions in the end. After all, it would be an awful shame to have my house represented by those mittens." He eyed the ridiculous pieces of cloth on Circe's hands, they looked like they'd been sewen by Dobby the house-elf. 

Circe held her mittens against her chest defensively. They were Andromeda's first and last attempt at knitting something.  "At least we have a semblance of loyalty in our house, instead of charging at danger on any given whim." 

Harry snorted "That's a bit ironic, isn't it? Considering you're here sitting with me and not Cedric." 

She laughed despite herself, it was true, of course. But they both knew that Cedric was well off in training and expertise, having been top of his class in defense since his third year. She felt oddly relaxed and unwound around Harry, despite her nervousness about the task, she was relieved to be here with him, giggling about mittens by the hearth. 

"Believe me, Cedric has more than enough support." She raised her eyebrows, alluding to the "groupies" that have taken to attaching themselves to Cedric. It seemed he had his own little fan club following him around like lost puppy dogs.

Harry laughed, picking up on Circe's meaning. "Oh, a bit of jealousy is it? Is that why you're here fraternizing with the enemy?" He teased. 

Circe looked horrified, her eyes widened and suddenly the fire felt a lot warmer than it did a moment before. "Merlin no, that's practically incest! Cedric is a brother to me." She grimaced at the thought but quickly reverted to a conspiratorial tone "Besides, Cedric has someone he's been eyeing for a while." She said with a wink. Besides Emrys, she hadn't let it slip to anyone else about Cedric and Cho. It seemed like a major feat to be sitting on such an important piece of gossip without telling anyone. Telling Harry didn't seem to be the worst thing that she could do with that information anyways, it's not like he had anyone to tell. 

Harry leaned in, intrigued, and gestured for Circe to continue talking. Even the boy who lived was not immune from petty gossip. Circe shook her head "I can't say who, it would be a breach of Hufflepuff solidarity." She had a flare for the dramatics.

Harry rolled his eyes and sat back against the couch, he felt at ease and less anxious than he had the entire time leading up to the first task. Which was odd considering that each tick of the clock meant another minute closer to the tournament but he didn't seem to care. 

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Once Circe and Harry set a time to meet by the champion's tent, she embarked on the journey down to the Quidditch pitch. They had spent the entire morning chatting in the common room, foregoing breakfast and class. This bit of respite from the chaos of the tournament was beneficial to them both. She felt the cold nip at her cheeks the moment she stepped outside. She held her scarf tighter and felt a shiver go down her spine, she couldn't imagine actually having to fight a beast in this weather. At least it breathed fire, she thought. 

A few students were slowly trickling out of Hogwarts and into the curvy path leading to the newly converted Quidditch pitch. She noticed that it was now converted into a bowl-shaped arena. Her legs urged her to keep going forward, as the slow trickle of students soon became a flood. She searched in the crowd for a mass of black curls but she failed to spot Emrys anywhere. She resigned and continued her way up to the Hufflepuff student section.  Although the tournament was an attempt to breed inter-house unity, for the sake of preventing mass chaos ensuing, the heads of houses decided it best to keep things separate for now.

She had barely reached the platform separating the Hufflepuffs from Ravenclaws when she noticed Emrys sitting on the first bench to her right. He began frantically waving her over, looking rather distressed as he did so. 

"Where have you been? I've been sitting out here in the cold waiting for you for nearly an hour." He frowned in irritation. He arrived early that morning in hopes of catching up with her.

Circe hadn't planned out how to respond to this. She had been careful to be elusive when telling Emrys her whereabouts during the times she's spent with the Gryffindors. She'd never planned on telling him about helping Harry, it would violate his Hufflepuff values of loyalty and his trust in Circe. 

"I've been helping Harry." She said bluntly.

Emrys was speechless for a moment, looking at her with hurt in his eyes. "You've been helping Potter? Cedric could've used some of your help the last few weeks but you've been gone all the time. We've hardly seen you." She'd expected the disappointment in his eyes but she didn't expect it to hurt this much.

Circe's stomach twisted as students filed in around her, the task was starting soon and she couldn't break her agreement to find Harry before the task began.  

She shook her head. "We both know Cedric didn't need any help, especially from me. All of the other champions have had years of practice on Harry, I had to help him." She grimaced "Especially because of last year".

Emrys twisted in his seat and gave her an odd look "If you've only been helping him out of guilt, hasn't it been ultimately self-serving? Besides, Wallaburga said it herself, Sirius isn't really your family."  

Circe thought about this for a moment, before the malice in the tone of his voice registered in her head. She didn't think her actions had been self-serving, she was rectifying her family's faults. Paying her dues to the universe, if you will. Despite guilt being her earliest motivator, she'd grown fond of Harry. She'd grown fond of his bright green eyes and light laugh, she wondered why they had not become friends earlier. 

Before Circe could retaliate, Ludo Bagman's voice boomed through an enchanted megaphone. He began announcing the start of the tournament, the shrill of his voice ricocheting across the pitch. Circe didn't bother saying anything to Emrys, arguing with him was not a priority. Keeping Harry alive on the other hand, was. Circe thought that Emry's sense of blind loyalty to his friends prevented him from seeing the bigger picture.

She hurried up the hill to the champion's tent, eyeing the flap of the canvas. She slipped in soundlessly, beelining for Harry. He was leaning up against the tent, his palms cupping something. Circe peered into his hands and noticed a miniature dragon. It was the Hungarian Horntail, she recognized it from the posters in Charlie's room, she took this dragon as a good omen. It had been Charlie's favorite to study, she recalled Tonks teasing him over the obsession. 

"I've got a good feeling about this." Circe gave Harry a beaming smile, trying to lift his spirits. He gave her a pained smile in response. Harry was terrified, he was terrified to be fourteen and facing a dragon, he was terrified he'd be scorched in front of the entire crowd. And here was Circe Black, staring up at him with a smile dipped in sunlight, dimples and all. He attempted to smile back again, this time with a hopeful inflection painted on his face. 

Circe pulled Harry into an embrace, smiling into his hair. "Good luck Harry! Please don't get barbequed"

Harry chuckled, he felt the soft breath from her laugh against his cheek. It felt like a soft summer breeze, soothing and tranquil. He found himself lingering in the hug for a moment, taking in her scent of honeysuckle and amber. 

Applause shattered their stolen moment like breaking glass; Krum had finished — it would be Harry's turn any moment. 

Harry watched as Circe gave him a reassuring nod before slipping out of the tent and descending from the hill. 

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He saw everything in front of him as though it was a very highly colored dream. 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.

He seemed to be looking at everything around him through some sort of shimmering, transparent barrier, like a heat haze, which made the enclosure and the hundreds of faces around him swim strangely. 

And then he heard it, 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 was making even more noise, he scanned the crowd trying to find Circe. Bagman was shouting something but Harry's ears were not working properly anymore listening wasn't important. 

He swung his leg over the broom and kicked off from the ground. And a second later, something miraculous happened. As he soared upward, as the wind rushed through his hair, as the crowd's faces became mere flesh-colored pinpricks below, and the Horntail shrank to the size of a dog, he realized that he may have a chance at winning. 

He looked down at the clutch of eggs and spotted the gold one, gleaming against its cement-colored fellows, residing safely between the dragon's front legs. He dived. The Horntail's head followed him; he knew what it was going to do and pulled out of the dive just in time; a jet of fire had been released exactly where he would have been had he not swerved away but Harry didn't care that was no more than dodging a Bludger.

"Great Scott, he can fly!" yelled Bagman as the crowd shrieked and gasped. "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"

Harry soared higher in a circle; the Horntail was still following him closely but he noticed something peculiar. He thought he spotted a golden snitch hurtling towards him from a distance, it looked eerily like Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix that saved him in his second year. He didn't have time to dwell on its presence for long, he simply continued climbing above the dragon.

The Horntail didn't seem to want to take off, she was too protective of her eggs. Though she writhed and twisted, furling and unfurling her wings and keeping those fearsome yellow eyes on Harry, she was afraid to move too far from them. He flew even higher, taking time to strategize his next move. He watched the dragon carefully, squinting slightly as he tried to make out the vague gold spec hovering around the dragon. It was Fawkes, he was certain of it. The bird was swarming the dragon, confusing it. He saw the dragon begin to falter, entranced by the glowing, bright bird in front of it. 

Harry took this opportunity to go straight for the eggs, executing a near-perfected dive forward, he seized the golden egg.  

For the first time, he became properly aware of the noise of the crowd, which was screaming and applauding as loudly as the Irish supporters at the World Cup.

"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!"

Harry saw the dragon keepers rushing forward to subdue the Horntail, and, over at the entrance to the enclosure, Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Hagrid hurrying to meet him, all of them waving him toward them, their smiles evident even from this distance. He flew back over the stands, the noise of the crowd pounding his eardrums, and came in smoothly to land, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks. He had got through the first task, he had survived. 

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authors note:

thank you all so much for 10k reads! hope you all enjoyed! don't forget to leave a vote & comment :)