I do not own Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire or the Percy Jackson series/characters.

Quotes from book

Mind Talking between Familiar/Bonded

Parseltongue

When the Weighing of the Wands ceremony happened, Harry was in Potions class where they were about to test the antidotes they created. Harry was actually quite excited for his.

And then a knock on the dungeon door burst in on Harry's thoughts. It was Colin Creevey; he edged into the room, beaming at Harry, and walked up to Snape's desk at the front of the room.

"Yes?" said Snape curtly.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Jackson-Potter upstairs." Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.

"Jackson has another hour of Potions to complete," said Snape coldly. "He will come upstairs when this class is finished."

Colin went pink. "Sir — sir, Mr. Bagman wants him," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs. . . ."

"Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Jackson, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote."

"Please, sir — he's got to take his things with him," squeaked Colin. "All the champions —"

"Very well !" said Snape. "Jackson— take your bag and get out of my sight!" (- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 301)

Harry looked at Severus worriedly, if he didn't know any better he would assume the man had a headache. Hoping not to worsen his headache further, Harry nodded softly, grabbed his bag, and followed Colin.

"It's amazing, isn't it, Harry?" said Colin, starting to speak the moment Harry had closed the dungeon door behind him. "Isn't it, though? You being champion?"

"Yeah, really amazing," said Harry heavily as they set off toward the steps into the entrance hall. "What do they want photos for, Colin?"

"The Daily Prophet, I think!"

"Great," said Harry dully. "Exactly what I need. More publicity."

"Good luck!" said Colin when they had reached the right room.

Harry knocked on the door and entered. He was in a fairly small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet.

Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Harry had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes. Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody. Cedric and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur looked a good deal happier than Harry had seen her so far; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.

Bagman suddenly spotted Harry, got up quickly, and bounded forward.

"Ah, here he is! Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come . . . nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment —"

"Wand weighing?" Harry curiously.

"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the witch in magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet. . . ."

"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on Harry.

Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.

"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?" she said to Bagman, but still gazing fixedly at Harry. "The youngest champion, you know . . . to add a bit of color?" (- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 302-303)

"How about no," Harry said without hesitation.

"I'm sorry?" Bagman said nervously as he glanced between Harry and Rita.

"I am not doing an exclusive with the Daily Prophet. If you hag me into doing one without all champions included in the same article, then I will give you my Lawyers name because he'll want to be speaking with you," Harry said with conviction.

Harry saw Rita glare at him before it suddenly shifted into a wide-eye, pouting look that did not look well on her face. "Now, Mr.Potter," Rita said sweetly.

"Heir Jackson-Black-Potter, actually," Harry said as he lifted his chin as his fingers disillusioned the ring that sat on his right hand where the middle finger was.

Now Harry really could give people the middle finger with an excellent reason.

"I accepted my heirship rings this summer for the Black, Jackson, and Potter this summer," Harry said smoothly. Admittedly, the Potter ring would turn into the Lord ring this coming summer but his dogfather wanted to make sure it was all by the books in regards that the heir needed to be claimed for a full year before taking up the mantle of Lord.

"Oh, but that's excellent news for the readers! Perhaps you can tell me more about the process you went through?" Rita asked sweetly, but the greed in her eyes showed her true intention.

"No, like all Ancient and Noble houses, the process that is undergoes by their Lords and Heirs are to be kept secret. Now, if you don't mind me, I believe the champions have a Wand Weighing ceremony to attend," Harry said stiffly before walking out of the room and toward Dumbledore who just looked amused at Harry telling Rita off.

He entered the room and spotted four chairs near the door, each having a crest on them. He recognized them as Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and then Salem.

Figuring that he was the champion for Salem, Harry sat in the seat with Salem's house crest on it. Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor all came in and sat in their own respective seats as the judges came in.

The judges were Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr.Crouch, Ludo Bagman, and then another lady that Harry only met two times.

It was Carina Picquery, the President of MACUSA (Magical Congress of the United States of America) and beside her was Maria Jones, the headmistress/principle of Salem Magical Institute for the Gifted.

"Hello, Harry," Maria said with a smile and a small wave.

"Hello, Mrs.Jones," Harry said politely back ignoring how she rolled her eyes, seeming want to remind him to call her Maria.

"Hello, Mr.Jackson," Madam Picquery said with a soft smile. Like her ancestor, she had the dark skin and blond hair with the no none-sense attitude of a previous president Seraphina Picquery.

"I see I'm your champion?" Harry asked curiously.

Madam President was already nodding. "Yes, it took a bit of arguing, but we reached an agreement. As you are still enrolled in Salem mostly for Summer classes, you are still considered a student. Because Hogwarts can hardly have two champions it was agreed upon that you will represent Salem," commented Madam President Picquery.

Rita Skeeter settled herself down in a corner; Harry saw her slip the parchment out of her bag again, spread it on her knee, suck the end of the Quick-Quotes Quill, and place it once more on the parchment.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions while Principle Jones took her own seat. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Harry looked around, and with a jolt of surprise saw an old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. Harry had met Mr. Ollivander before — he was the wand-maker from whom Harry had bought his own wand over three years ago in Diagon Alley.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.

Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand.

"Hmmm . . ." he said. He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.

"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches . . . inflexible . . . rosewood . . . and containing . . . dear me . . ."

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

So Fleur was part veela, thought Harry, making a mental note to tell Neville.

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands . . . however, to each his own, and if this suits you . . ."

Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.

"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Diggory, you next."

Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her. "Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn . . . must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches . . . ash . . . pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition. . . . You treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning.

Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said, "Mr. Krum, if you please." Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duck-footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes.

"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I . . . however . . ." He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.

"Yes . . . hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees . . . quite rigid . . . ten and a quarter inches . . . Avis!" The hornbeam wand let off a blast like a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.

"Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand.

"Which leaves . . . Mr. Potter." Harry got to his feet and walked past Krum to Mr. Ollivander.

He handed over his wand. "Aaaah, yes," said Mr. Ollivander, his pale eyes suddenly gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember." Mr. Ollivander spent much longer examining Harry's wand than anyone else's. 

Eventually, however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Harry, announcing that it was still in perfect condition.

"Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now — or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end —"(- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 307-311)

"—Actually, I believe I have one more wand to exam," Mr.Ollivander butted in, his eyes stared into Harry's. "If the young man wants to use it during the tournament that is."

Harry sighed as the atmosphere turned more toward surprise and he could hear Rita's quill quickly writing in her notebook.

"I suppose I do," Harry said with a sigh and flicked his left wrist (his non dominant hand, but he was ambidextrous so he never really worried about it).

From there, his other wand that he had kept hidden since his first summer shot out into his waiting hand and he felt warmth. The Ash, Elder, and Holly wand felt warm in his hand. Admittedly, the wand type would mostly be considered to be Ash and Holly, as Elder is rare and there was only one wand that was truly made up of only Elder. Harry's bit of Elder wood is only one strip, and it twirls around the handle.

The Holly type wood was a soft beach color that twirled around the darker type of Ash wood that most places use when it comes to wood making. Making the heavy black type of Elder pop when people saw the wand and noted that the handle had the other type of wood blended with the other two.

"Ah, interesting, interesting," Ollivander muttered as he took Harry's wand. Harry felt amusement as the wandmaker seemed enthralled with Harry's wand.

"What type is this wood down here?" he asked as he pointed to the Elder.

"A strip of Elder," Harry answered honestly.

Ollivander hummed as he examined the wand. "And how is balance of it? I would've assumed three wand types would battle against one another?" he inquired.

"Originally at the beginning they were, but they somehow came to the conclusion of being loyal to only me. Honestly, they've taken to fighting with my other wand but it's subsiding a bit more than when I originally got it. They do have an attitude though," Harry commented with a small blush as he tried his best to ignore Rita in the background.

"Hmm, and the core? Or is it cores? three wood types would indicate three cores?" Ollivander asked.

"Ah, Unicorn, a type I don't want to disclaimer, and a Water Phoenix tail feather," Harry admitted. He didn't want others to know about the thestral tail hair that was also in the wand. He didn't want them thinking it was the wand from the fairy tale about the Master of Death nonsense, and there was a big thing when it came to Grindelwald he didn't want to take any chances.

"Quite fascinating, you must give me the wandmaker's location. I think we could really make excellent wands if he so wishes," Ollivander said as he tried to summon a Lumos. But, as expected, the wand was too loyal to even connect to Ollivander's magic, having noted it was different than their actual bonded.

"It's in perfect condition and quite loyal to you, didn't even connect to my magic," Ollivander commented as he handed the wand to Harry.

"Thank you. The wandmaker is in Knockturn Alley, so you might have to be a bit careful," Harry warned before summoning a pad of paper and writing the address and place of the wandmaker in Knockturn was before handing it to Ollivander, giving no one a chance to look at what he wrote.

"Thank you, it was quite nice seeing you again Heir Jackson, I think you will do amazingly well," Ollivander commented as he left.

Feeling that at last something had gone right today, Harry got up to leave, but the man with the black camera jumped up and cleared his throat.

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Er — yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Harry again. "And then perhaps some individual shots." The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl; Krum, whom Harry would have thought would have been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group. The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur at the front, but Rita Skeeter kept hurrying forward and dragging Harry into greater prominence until Harry flat out refused the photographs if she tried to get him in front where Fleur was standing. Then she insisted on separate shots of all the champions. At last, they were free to go.(- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 311)

Harry ordered from the kitchen for some food before heading toward his dorm-room, ready for the day to be officially over.

"How was it?" Neville asked on his bed, Herbology homework in front of him.

"Skeeter is bloody crazy. Don't ever talk to her," Harry said as he flopped on his bed and grabbed a random homework assignment. Ancient Runes, at least it would make him feel a bit better.

Harry was deeply annoyed by Rita Skeeter's article the next day and how she put words into his mouth that were never said and never implied.

It started off rather simple, she was talking about the four champions before it dwindled more about Harry than the other champions.Oh my dear readers, when I tried to get an exclusive about Harry Potter, I was denied! He claimed that his father was stopping him from taking an interviews, even suing those that might! Mr.Potter even wanted to go into more information about how he had gotten his Heirships rings before he said that he was not allowed! He was quite distraught about not being able to tell me, claiming that he was under oath to not mention it by his godfather Sirius Black who has recently taken up the mantle of being Lord Black and therefore, given Harry the heir ring. Is Sirius Black really as innocent as we think? Are we certain that he hasn't Imperious any person during his trials and had transfigured someone into looking like Peter Pittigrew. It has been over twelve years since someone has seen Peter Pettigrew, perhaps the person that is shown is not really him but someone who could look like him? The most concerning part about meeting Harry was the fact that his father had taken him to Knockturn alley to get another wand! Harry mentioned that he goes into Knockturn all the time, sometimes for simple things! Imagine, the Boy-Who-Lived always shopping in Knockturn Alley where there are claims of Dark Wizards that would easily kill the poor young orphan boy. Is Percy Jackson, the adopted father to the young Boy-Who-Lived trying to kill him and steal his money?

"I saw Mr.Jackson once, he was very scary. Came in during Breakfast once and started screaming at the Headmaster. I feared for my life! It was pouring outside when he came in, if I didn't know any better I would say he caused it!" A voice at Hogwarts that wishes to remain anonymous said.

Is this the work of a Dark Wizard that has taken in Young Harry and is now trying to kill him and steal his money? Is Harry turning Dark and following his adoptive fathers footsteps without meaning to? Should we be concerned with the lack of information about this Percy Jackson? Someone who claims to be from America and having no magic, but seems to cause things to happen around him?

The only other news I was able to gather was the fact that Harry may have found love at Hogwarts! A close friend of his, Pansy Parkinson of the Ancient and Noble House of Parkinson, says that Harry is always in the company of on Luna Lovegood, a Pureblood who is often called Loony and seems to not be right in the head! Is she taking advantage of poor Harry Potter who seems to have fallen in with the wrong crowd? Is he going to be the next Dark Lord if we don't do anything? More about the other champions on pages 5, 6, 7. More about Percy Jackson on page 2. More about the fourth champion now the Champion of Salem Magical Institute on Page 3.

Most of the school was deeply annoyed at Rita, especially when it was known from Cedric, Viktor, and Fleur that Rita was writing lies because Harry had followed the procedure for Heirs and wasn't, in fact, distraught at not being able to tell Rita. They even told everyone that it was Rita who was more distraught about the news than Harry.

Harry had just pushed the article aside, sent an owl to his father that he wanted to sue both Skeeter and Parkinson, and then put the article out of his mind.

Instead, he went to Hogsmeade with Hermione and Luna. Draco and Neville seemed to have disappeared, probably in an attempt to find him a christmas gift, or so they claimed at least. Harry didn't really want to know if they actually liked each other (honestly, he thought Neville had a crush on Luna, but Harry didn't really know for certain) and decided that being oblivious would be better

He didn't particularly want any stares, so he had actually brought his invisibility cloak and hid under it. It gave Luna and Hermione the feeling they were just talking to each other instead of just talking to thin air.

It took a bit, but they eventually ended up at the Three Broomsticks, Harry sipping his own Butterbeer under his cloak while Hermione worked on S.P.E.W (Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare) and pretty much was Hermione's current mindset this year and freeing House Elves from the slavery they were in.

Harry kept trying to tell Hermione that they really didn't actually want gold, and they needed to be bonded with a family because their magic is highly unstable without said bond and will end up killing them if they aren't bonded.

Even the House Elves are bonded, though it's mostly to Hogwarts and her magical core that was created by the founders, some are bonded to the Headmaster/Headmistress of the school.

As Harry watched, he saw Hagrid and Moody get up to leave. He waved, then remembered that Hagrid couldn't see him. Moody, however, paused, his magical eye on the corner where Harry was standing. He tapped Hagrid in the small of the back (being unable to reach his shoulder), muttered something to him, and then the pair of them made their way back across the pub toward Harry and Hermione's table.

"All right, Hermione, Luna?" said Hagrid loudly.

"Hello," said Hermione, smiling back.

Moody limped around the table and bent down; Harry thought he was reading the S.P.E.W. notebook, until he muttered, "Nice cloak, Potter."

Harry stared at him in amazement. The large chunk missing from Moody's nose was particularly obvious at a few inches' distance. Moody grinned.

"Can your eye — I mean, can you — ?"

"Yeah, it can see through Invisibility Cloaks," Moody said quietly. "And it's come in useful at times, I can tell you." Hagrid was beaming down at Harry too. Harry knew Hagrid couldn't see him, but Moody had obviously told Hagrid he was there. Hagrid now bent down on the pretext of reading the S.P.E.W. notebook as well, and said in a whisper so low that only Harry could hear it, "Harry, meet me tonight at midnight at me cabin. Wear that cloak."

Straightening up, Hagrid said loudly, "Nice ter see yeh, Hermione, Luna," winked, and departed. Moody followed him. (- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 322)

"Weird," Harry muttered before continuing to sip his Butterbeer.

"You should go," Luna said as he doodled on a piece of paper Hermione ripped from her own for her.

"Alright," Harry said with a shrug. If Luna thought he should go, then he will.

The grounds were very dark. Harry walked down the lawn toward the lights shining in Hagrid's cabin. The inside of the enormous Beauxbatons carriage was also lit up; Harry could hear Madame Maxime talking inside it as he knocked on Hagrid's front door.

"You there, Harry?" Hagrid whispered, opening the door and looking around.

"Yeah," said Harry, slipping inside the cabin and pulling the cloak down off his head. "What's up?"

"Got summat ter show yeh," said Hagrid. There was an air of enormous excitement about Hagrid. He was wearing a flower that resembled an oversized artichoke in his buttonhole. It looked as though he had abandoned the use of axle grease, but he had certainly attempted to comb his hair — Harry could see the comb's broken teeth tangled in it.

"What're you showing me?" Harry said warily, wondering if the skrewts had laid eggs, or Hagrid had managed to buy another giant three-headed dog off a stranger in a pub.

"Come with me, keep quiet, an' keep yerself covered with that cloak," said Hagrid. "We won' take Fang, he won' like it. . . ."

"Listen, Hagrid, I can't stay long. . . . I've got to be back up at the castle by one o'clock —"

But Hagrid wasn't listening; he was opening the cabin door and striding off into the night. Harry hurried to follow and found, to his great surprise, that Hagrid was leading him to the Beauxbatons carriage.

"Hagrid, what — ?"

"Shhh!" said Hagrid, and he knocked three times on the door bearing the crossed golden wands.

Madame Maxime opened it. She was wearing a silk shawl wrapped around her massive shoulders. She smiled when she saw Hagrid.

"Ah, 'Agrid . . . it is time?"

"Bong-sewer," said Hagrid, beaming at her, and holding out a hand to help her down the golden steps.

Madame Maxime closed the door behind her, Hagrid offered her his arm, and they set off around the edge of the paddock containing Madame Maxime's giant winged horses, with Harry, totally bewildered, running to keep up with them. Had Hagrid wanted to show him Madame Maxime? He could see her any old time he wanted . . . she wasn't exactly hard to miss. . . .

But it seemed that Madame Maxime was in for the same treat as Harry, because after a while she said playfully, "Wair is it you are taking me, 'Agrid?"

"Yeh'll enjoy this," said Hagrid gruffly, "worth seein', trust me. On'y — don' go tellin' anyone I showed yeh, right? Yeh're not s'posed ter know."

"Of course not," said Madame Maxime, fluttering her long black eyelashes.

And still they walked, Harry getting more and more irritated as he jogged along in their wake, checking his watch every now and then. Hagrid had some harebrained scheme in hand, which might make him miss Sirius. If they didn't get there soon, he was going to turn around, go straight back to the castle, and leave Hagrid to enjoy his moonlit stroll with Madame Maxime. . . .

But then — when they had walked so far around the perimeter of the forest that the castle and the lake were out of sight — Harry heard something. Men were shouting up ahead . . . then came a deafening, earsplitting roar. . . .

Hagrid led Madame Maxime around a clump of trees and came to a halt. Harry hurried up alongside them — for a split second, he thought he was seeing bonfires, and men darting around them — and then his mouth fell open.

Dragons.(- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 323-325)

Harry was filled with excitement. More dragons, hell yes. Suddenly he was actually excited about this tournament. Maybe it would be more interesting than he initially thought it would be.

Four fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons were rearing onto their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood, roaring and snorting — torrents of fire were shooting into the dark sky from their open, fanged mouths, fifty feet above the ground on their outstretched necks. There was a silvery-blue one with long, pointed horns, snapping and snarling at the wizards on the ground; a smooth-scaled green one, which was writhing and stamping with all its might; a red one with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face, which was shooting mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air; and a gigantic black one, more lizard-like than the others, which was nearest to them.

At least thirty wizards, seven or eight to each dragon, were attempting to control them, pulling on the chains connected to heavy leather straps around their necks and legs. Mesmerized, Harry looked up, high above him, and saw the eyes of the black dragon, with vertical pupils like a cat's, bulging with either fear or rage, he couldn't tell which. . . . It was making a horrible noise, a yowling, screeching scream. . . .

"Keep back there, Hagrid!" yelled a wizard near the fence, straining on the chain he was holding. "They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I've seen this Horntail do forty!"

"Is'n' it beautiful?" said Hagrid softly.

"It's no good!" yelled another wizard. "Stunning Spells, on the count of three!"

Harry saw each of the dragon keepers pull out his wand. "Stupefy!" they shouted in unison, and the Stunning Spells shot into the darkness like fiery rockets, bursting in showers of stars on the dragons' scaly hides —

Harry watched the dragon nearest to them teeter dangerously on its back legs; its jaws stretched wide in a silent howl; its nostrils were suddenly devoid of flame, though still smoking — then, very slowly, it fell. Several tons of sinewy, scaly-black dragon hit the ground with a thud that Harry could have sworn made the trees behind him quake.

The dragon keepers lowered their wands and walked forward to their fallen charges, each of which was the size of a small hill. They hurried to tighten the chains and fasten them securely to iron pegs, which they forced deep into the ground with their wands.

"Wan' a closer look?" Hagrid asked Madame Maxime excitedly. The pair of them moved right up to the fence, and Harry followed. The wizard who had warned Hagrid not to come any closer turned, and Harry realized who it was: Charlie Weasley.

"All right, Hagrid?" he panted, coming over to talk. "They should be okay now — we put them out with a Sleeping Draft on the way here, thought it might be better for them to wake up in the dark and the quiet — but, like you saw, they weren't happy, not happy at all —"

"What breeds you got here, Charlie?" said Hagrid, gazing at the closest dragon, the black one, with something close to reverence.

Its eyes were still just open. Harry could see a strip of gleaming yellow beneath its wrinkled black eyelid.

"This is a Hungarian Horntail," said Charlie. "There's a Common Welsh Green over there, the smaller one — a Swedish Short-Snout, that blue-gray — and a Chinese Fireball, that's the red."

Charlie looked around; Madame Maxime was strolling away around the edge of the enclosure, gazing at the stunned dragons.

"I didn't know you were bringing her, Hagrid," Charlie said, frowning. "The champions aren't supposed to know what's coming — she's bound to tell her student, isn't she?"

"Jus' thought she'd like ter see 'em," shrugged Hagrid, still gazing, enraptured, at the dragons.

"Really romantic date, Hagrid," said Charlie, shaking his head. "Four . . ." said Hagrid, "so it's one fer each o' the champions, is it? What've they gotta do — fight 'em?"

"Just get past them, I think," said Charlie. "We'll be on hand if it gets nasty, Extinguishing Spells at the ready. They wanted nesting mothers, I don't know why . . . but I tell you this, I don't envy the one who gets the Horntail. Vicious thing. Its back end's as dangerous as its front, look."

Charlie pointed toward the Horntail's tail, and Harry saw long, bronze-colored spikes protruding along it every few inches.

Five of Charlie's fellow keepers staggered up to the Horntail at that moment, carrying a clutch of huge granite-gray eggs between them in a blanket. They placed them carefully at the Horntail's side. Hagrid let out a moan of longing.

"I've got them counted, Hagrid," said Charlie sternly. Then he said, "How's Harry?"

"Fine," said Hagrid. He was still gazing at the eggs.

"Just hope he's still fine after he's faced this lot," said Charlie grimly, looking out over the dragons' enclosure. "I didn't dare tell Mum what he's got to do for the first task; she's already having kittens about him. . . ." Charlie imitated his mother's anxious voice.

" 'How could they let him enter that tournament, he's much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was going to be an age limit!' "(- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 326-328)

Harry ignored pretty much the other stuff and had to refrain himself from actually going toward the dragons and possibly petting them. They were beautiful, and the differences between them were enchanting. He couldn't wait to read up on them.

But that was technically cheating. Hagrid told him, and Madam Maxime is certainly going to tell Fluer. Harry saw Karkaroff skirting around the edges and will most likely tell Viktor. Which meant that no one is telling Cedric. Which certainly isn't very nice.

So, Harry will have to read about the dragons, and how one might go about them, and make sure to warn Cedric about them and how they will probably need to go through them, not directly fight them.

Nodding, Harry tugged on Hagrid's robes softly and watched the man bend down like he was fixing his shoes.

"I'm going to head back, thanks Hagrid. It means a lot," Harry whispered softly in the man's ear before leaving Hagrid to his date and Charlie with the dragons.

With each step, Harry felt his excitement increase.

On the day of the first task, he left the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall. She didn't seem herself either; in fact, she looked nearly as anxious as Neville when he found out. As she walked him down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Now, don't panic," she said, "just keep a cool head. . . . We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand. . . . The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you. . . . Are you all right?"

"Yes," Harry said. "Yes, I'm fine."

She was leading him toward the place where the dragons were, around the edge of the forest, but when they approached the clump of trees behind which the enclosure would be clearly visible, Harry saw that a tent had been erected, its entrance facing them, screening the dragons from view.

"You're to go in here with the other champions," said Professor McGonagall, in a rather shaky sort of voice, "and wait for your turn, Potter. Mr. Bagman is in there . . . he'll be telling you the — the procedure. . . . Good luck."

"Thanks," said Harry. She left him at the entrance of the tent. Harry went inside.(- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 348)

Harry was nervous, but he had practiced the spells he wanted to do. He wasn't really trying to fight the dragon, but rather calm it. At least, that was the current goal, he had read up on other things especially regarding the rules for the Triwizard and there was a statement about the fact Familiars were allowed to be used.

But because there were so few wizards that had familiars, there wasn't really any concern and the ones that might've had them didn't use them as they were generally just kneazles or other common magical creatures that would easily be harmed if they fought against the Dark Creatures that were used in the tournaments.

Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Harry supposed was his way of showing nerves. Cedric was pacing up and down. When Harry entered, Cedric gave him a small smile, which Harry returned, feeling the muscles in his face working rather hard, as though they had forgotten how to do it.

"Harry! Good-o!" said Bagman happily, looking around at him.

"Come in, come in, make yourself at home!" Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again.

"Well, now we're all here — time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag" — he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them — "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different — er — varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too . . . ah, yes . . . your task is to collect the golden egg!"

Harry glanced around. Cedric had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then started pacing around the tent again; he looked slightly green. Fleur Delacour and Krum hadn't reacted at all. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths; that was certainly how Harry felt. But they, at least, had volunteered for this. . . .

And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking. . . . Harry felt as separate from the crowd as though they were a different species. And then — it seemed like about a second later to Harry — Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.

"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur Delacour.

She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon — a Welsh Green. It had the number two around its neck. And Harry knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that he had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.

The same held true for Krum. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number three around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number one tied around its neck. Knowing what was left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number four. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right?"(- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 349-350)

The champions nodded and Bagman left the room.

"Hey, Cedric, look how cool these are," Harry commented as he softly pet the terrifying dragon in his hand that looked like absolute puddy.

Cedric just gave this histacle, I can't believe you but I can, laugh before shaking his head. He seemed slightly less paler than before as he took in Harry's absolute happiness at the figure in his hand.

"Here, you can have mine, Harry," Cedric said with a soft look as he handed his dragon to Harry.

Harry grinned up at the boy and set his dragon on his shoulder before taking the dragon from Cedric and petting it softly. The dragon had cooed at him before climbing his arm and settling on his other shoulder.

Fleur and Viktor looked at each other before shrugging and handing their own figurine to Harry who just grinned and thanked them, seeming to be the only one that worried about the task.

So, they waited. Cedric was the first one to go, and he was pale and seemed green in the face as he stepped out. But Harry thought he would do well enough.

"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow" . . . "He's taking risks, this one!" . . . "Clever move — pity it didn't work!"

And then, after about fifteen minutes, Harry heard the deafening roar that could mean only one thing: Cedric had gotten past his dragon and captured the golden egg.

"Very good indeed!" Bagman was shouting. "And now the marks from the judges!"

But he didn't shout out the marks; Harry supposed the judges were holding them up and showing them to the crowd.

"One down, three to go!" Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!" Fleur was trembling from head to foot; Harry felt more warmly toward her than he had done so far as she left the tent with her head held high and her hand clutching her wand. He and Krum were left alone, at opposite sides of the tent, avoiding each other's gaze.

The same process started again. . . . "Oh I'm not sure that was wise!" they could hear Bagman shouting gleefully. "Oh . . . nearly! Careful now . . . good lord, I thought she'd had it then!"

Ten minutes later, Harry heard the crowd erupt into applause once more. . . . Fleur must have been successful too. A pause, while Fleur's marks were being shown . . . more clapping . . . then, for the third time, the whistle.

"And here comes Mr. Krum!" cried Bagman, and Krum slouched out, leaving Harry quite alone "Very daring!" Bagman was yelling, and Harry heard the Chinese Fireball emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. "That's some nerve he's showing — and — yes, he's got the egg!"

Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass; Krum had finished — it would be Harry's turn any moment.(- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 352-353)

Harry took a moment to set the figurines down on the seat he had just been in. "I'm about to head out, be safe and stay there. I'll come back to get you when I'm done. No, you can't come with me, it's dangerous and you're made of wood. I don't want any of you hurt," Harry said sternly when the Hungarian Horntail model made a move to go back on Harry's shoulder.

They pouted, but stayed in their seats as the whistle sounded and it was time for Harry to head out.

As he entered the small gate that the champions went to enter the arena, he felt his ears pop before it was absolutely silent.

There was a Silencing Ward around them, so the crowd didn't distract the champion or dragon but they could still hear everything happening in the arena.

Great, it meant that he only had to deal with all the faces staring at him, rather than actually hearing them scream at him. He entered the arena.

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.(- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 353)

He took a deep breath and settled his unnerved magic that seemed to be weary now that he was face to face with a giant adult dragon.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry said and pushed his magic further than when he had been learning the actual spell.

He discovered, after he was looking up information about dragons and testing theories that Harry was unique.

At least, he remembered so when he had been testing the charm with Lunar. His magical core was large, larger than any other wizard or witch. Large enough that when he pushed his magic just more than needed, there was a twist with the patronus charm.

His Niffler showed, and stood strong in front of Harry even as the dragon had narrowed it's eyes at Harry and crouched in front of her eggs threatening.

But instead of putting his wand down, Harry said the enchant once more and pushed more magic as he held the Niffler steady.

From his wand was another silvery wisp that took the form of a stag and stood strong and proud in front of Harry. It was Prongs, his father's animagus form.

Harry said the enchant again and pushed more magic into the spell, he adjusted his stance as he felt some magic wavered slightly before it fixed itself.

Now, there was a Grim standing next to the stag. Two more times he said the charm until he had his Niffler, Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, and then a Dolphin in front of him.

He breathed deeply and checked on his magical core, now halfway depleted. It was the most he's ever depleted his core, but it would hopefully make do as he set about his patronus' toward the dragon.

Patronus' were special, and not just because they kept Dementors' away. They were one of the most powerful defensive charms known to wizardkind. Most of all, they were pure, protective magical concentration of happiness and hope. If you powered them enough, that happiness and hope combats any other feeling that the person facing a patronus might feel. Drowning any negative feelings and instead, replacing them with happier feelings.

Harry breathed deeply and watched the dragon for any sign that she might fire at him. It wouldn't do well if he was startled by her and accidentally dropped his magic.

But the Dragon was just watching him, her head slightly tilted as she took in the patronus' around him.

"I'm not here to harm you, O'Great Ancient One," Harry spoke in Parseltongue softly.

He could see the crowd shift, seeming afraid of the language of the snake. But Harry did his research, and it showed that in the case of the 1350 Tournament, a African contestant had used Parseltongue to help tame the dragon he was facing.

"You are different," the dragon hissed back, seeming different than the normal tone a dragon may have. Instead of the rough, rumbling they usually communicate with, it sounded off to hear a dragon hiss.

"I am," Harry said softly as he showed his wand before stowing it away, now only holding the patronus' around the dragon without his wand. It drained him a bit more, but Harry wasn't worried about it.

"Why have they sent a hatchling in here?" The dragon questioned as she curled around her dragon nest but settled more, seemed less intent on out-right killing Harry.

Harry followed her and sat down right where he was. "It is a trial of honor. Or similar to one. They send champions in and to battle a dragon and gather a fake egg from your nest. Three champions have already battled the other dragon and taken their fake egg. My fake egg is in your nest," Harry explained while trying not to over complicate it.

"That is stupid," The dragon said with a small huff, smoke coming out of her nose as she looked at her own nest with contemplation.

"It is, may I gather the egg? I don't want to take too long otherwise they may deduct points. We can talk more after the challenge? I would love to talk with you and the other Hatchling Mothers more. I know the people that try to handle you will want me to talk with you guys more. Make sure your nests are okay and that you aren't too stressed about the rough move from your original nest?" Harry questioned as he stood back up and dusted his hands then pants from the sand.

"I suppose that will be alright. As long as you come talk with us before we get sent away," the dragon said after taking a moment to think about Harry's request.

Harry's patronus leapt and wrapped itself around Harry's shoulder as Prong, Padfoot, and Moony stood guard. They kept giving the feelings off them, calming the dragon from any agitation that she may get with Harry coming closer toward her nest.

It was a dragon's instinct to protect their nest, even if she agreed to let Harry near them, her nurture was screaming at her to eat him, to protect her hatchlings.

Harry paused in his next step as his magic gave a powerful drain as Prong, Moony, and Padfoot worked on settling the dragon.

"Perhaps, if I point out the egg, you can roll it to me?" Harry inquired, he was two feet from the dragon's feet.

The dragon shifted and more smoke rose from her nostrils as she nodded and looked at her nest before inhaling deeply.

Dragons sense of smell was even better than canines, and she easily smelled the egg that had more metallic smell and that of painted gold. She shifted the egg slightly around her own hatchlings before picked it up between her teeth and moving her head toward Harry.

Right, dragon necks were far longer than the distance of 2 feet.

Harry blinked in surprise as the dragon was suddenly in front of him and dropped the golden egg at his feet.

"Thank you, O'Great Ancient One," Harry said as he placed his hand along her snout, just between her nostrils.

The mother dragon breathed deeply and closed her eyes slightly as Harry's magic sucked in the extra patronus before sending them to her. It was like a magical bath, and something that dragon's do to each other with dragon's breath. It was a symbol that they saw the other one as family and under their protection.

The dragon mother cooed softly as she opened her eyes before curling once more around her nest.

Harry smiled at her, picked up the egg, then left the arena as he ignored the dragon that kept watch over her eggs, but was placate far more than any dragon handler ever seen.

He saw Madam Pomfrey standing at the mouth of a second tent, looking worried.

"Dragons!" she said, in a disgusted tone, pulling Harry inside. The tent was divided into cubicles; he could make out Cedric's shadow through the canvas, but Cedric didn't seem to be badly injured; he was sitting up, at least.(- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 357)

"I'm quite alright, Poppy," Harry said with affection in his voice at his Healer teacher, "I promise I'm not hiding any wounds or anything. The dragon and I just had a lovely chat before she gave me the egg."

"It sounded brilliant, Harry," Cedric commented from his place with a grin toward Harry.

"Thanks," Harry said with a small blush as Poppy fretted around him. "I don't know what they were saying about me, but I thought I did pretty good."

"You are bloody mad, mate, but Cedric's right. You were brilliant," Neville said as he popped in from the back of the tent.

Harry grinned at seeing his friend and then Luna followed right behind him. "Glad to make you entertained," Harry said as he gave Neville and Luna and hug.

"Come on, I think they're tallying the results. Let's go see whose winning," Neville said excitedly.

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

"It's marks out of ten from each one," Neville 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 nine.

"She thought you cheated slightly by just talking to the dragon, but your magical power made the score higher," Luna explained next to him.

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number ten into the air. "Looking good!" Neville yelled, thumping Harry on the back. Next, Dumbledore. He too put up a ten. The crowd was cheering harder than ever. Ludo Bagman — ten.

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

"What?" Neville bellowed furiously. "Four? You lousy, biased scumbag, you gave Krum ten!" But Harry didn't care, he wouldn't have cared if Karkaroff had given him zero.(- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Page 359-360)

President Picquery glared at Karkaroff before lifting her own wand in the air and showing a ten as well.

"What did the others get?" Harry asked Neville and Luna.

"You have 53, Krum has 47, Cedric has 45, and Fleur has 46," Neville explained.

"Not bad," Harry said before setting off toward the castle, after grabbing the dragon figurines,  for a good long nap in hopes of recharging his magic. His niffler had dissipated around the time he had gotten the egg but before he went into the medic tent.

Though, he made sure to remind himself that he would need to see the dragons before they head back. He was sure the dragon Viktor's dragon was okay after her hatchlings had been killed because of the tournament.

Next Chapter: Harry's Next Duel for the Dueling Tournament

Word Count: 9186

Note: So...I think this takes longest chapters. Especially in one sitting. I think it too me roughly two hours to make this. At least, I think so. My mom came home around 6 ish and it's now 8:30 so, maybe 2 and half hours then. This incorporated three chapters from the HP book, I'm impressed with myself.

Guessing Question: Guess how many pages my google docs is where the chapter titles are size 14 Arial font and the actual chapters are size 12 Arial font. I'll give the answers next chapter (it wouldn't count that chapter though).