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THE REALITY OF THE FIRST TASK finally rooted within Albany's mind as she sat in the champion's tent with Harry, listening to the shouts and screams of excitement from the crowd while Krum tackled the first task. For the first time, however, she didn't feel nauseous, and her limbs weren't trembling with nerves; she sat still on the edge of a bench, staring resolutely at the floor with her chin in her hands. The furious roars of the Chinese Fireball outside made her ears ring, but perhaps it was the close proximity she was in to the fearsome beasts that had settled something deep inside of her.

Is this what accepting death feels like? she wondered vaguely, a twisted sense of humour accompanying the thought. She should have been stretching, or going over spells as her plan B — but she was worried that the moment she stood up, the sense of stillness would abandon her.

It wasn't quite calm, no. She felt tense, and incredibly so, but the pit of dread in her stomach had sealed up in exchange for a steely determination. She had exactly one goal she needed to fulfil and that was not die. Her intense focus on this goal was probably fuelled purely on survival instincts, but if it prevented her from flinching at every gasp from the stands outside and provided this relieving sense of stillness, she didn't care where it came from.

Ludo Bagman's strident voice rose to a roar as he announced Krum's victory over the tumultuous screaming of the crowd. Albany shifted uncomfortably on her bench. She was up next.

"And — YES, HE'S GOT THE EGG!"

Albany stood, ignoring the violent shiver that chased down her spine and made her legs feel weak. George's words were ringing in her ears, as were Merlin's, and Arthur's and Carly's and Fred's....

You can do this. I can do this.

She glanced to Harry, who's eyes were on her but not entirely focused. He blinked out of his stupor upon noticing her gaze, and nodded a silent encouragement. She went to nod back, but the movement was far more subtle than intended. She let out a long breath as she stepped towards the tent flaps. All she was waiting for was the whistle.

I can do this. Fuck you, Faith. I'm... I'm a lionheart.

As the applause outside began to die down — though not nearly completely, oh no, the crowd was far too hyped to fall completely silent — she heard the shrill whistle, like a high-pitched beckoning of death.

Merlin's waiting inside, she reminded herself, and bounced on the spot, warming up her muscles as she slightly regretted not properly stretching. All I gotta do is unlock these new powers, or whatever, and get the egg. Easy.

Well, it wasn't, really, but she could use the optimism.

Albany had a death grip on her wand as she entered the enclosure, and in an instant the sound from the stands was deafening. She glanced very briefly up at the cheering students, in the hopes that a familiar face might comfort her, but they were too far away to identify anyone. Ludo Bagman's voice had never been so ear-piercingly annoying before until he was announcing her presence with unnecessary hype. She lowered her eyes, and let him and the thundering crowd fade to background noise. Her heart was pounding in her ribcage.

Game time.

The Swedish Short-Snout was prowling on the opposite end of the enclosure. For a dragon that would most likely be attempting to kill her, it was a stunning, impressive creature. Lean muscles rippled under silvery-blue scales as it moved; it followed the same path back and forth as it stalked protectively in front of its clutch of eggs, tail lashing violently and nostrils flaring with smoke. Its wings were outstretched and overbearing, though not with the intention of taking to the air, Albany realised. It was seriously agitated.

"Of course she's pissed off," Merlin chuckled, and Albany turned suddenly to find him at her side, smiling reassurances. "She's a nesting mother whose children are under threat. Not to mention, dragons aren't exactly fond of crowds."

"Brilliant," Albany groaned, returning her gaze to the great beast. She was safe as long as she kept her distance; the dragon wasn't going to risk leaving its eggs. "Can't you just use your own dragonlord powers for me?"

"For starters, that's cheating," Merlin said in amusement, and Albany rolled her eyes. "But even if I wanted to, I couldn't. I'm dead, remember?"

Albany sighed, though her breaths weren't shaky this time. Adrenaline was pumping her system and her muscles felt like steel she was so tense, but she refused to let her nerves get the best of her. Not now.

"So what do I do?" she asked, warily eyeing the dragon; the longer she stayed put, the more daring it was becoming, inching closer to her every time it paced.

"You speak to it," Merlin said, though something about his tone implied it wasn't that simple. "The same way in which your soul is intertwined with mine, if you are a dragonlord, your soul and the dragon's are sisters."

"Oh, fab," Albany said sarcastically, peering over at the defensive mother. "Hey girl, how you been doing?"

"Albany."

"I know," she sighed, wringing out her wrists as she exhaled. "So what do I actually do?"

"No, I was serious, this isn't about fighting," Merlin informed her. "You must speak to her as kin. If you assert yourself effectively, she must obey your word."

Albany blinked, staring at the silvery dragon. It stepped closer than it ever had yet, an uncomfortable twenty feet away at most.

"That does require getting closer," Merlin urged her gently. "You can't be dominant over a dragon if you're too scared to put yourself in its reach."

"Fuck, okay," Albany hissed, and the few steps she took forward made her knees feel weak. She glanced nervously to Merlin. "Is there like, any other way to go about this? It's kind of embarrassing, y'know, talking to a dragon like it's my friend."

"Quit stalling."

And then he disappeared.

"Oh, fuck you, Merlin," Albany spat, and stepped forward again, wand drawn.

The dragon regarded her with a vicious stare as she approached slowly; its eyes were icy and piercing, not unlike Faith's — oh, forget Faith — and a deep growl rumbled in its throat as Albany continued to close the distance, the sound resounding in her eardrums. Flames tickled at its jaw, a bright, flickering blue in colour. Love the colour scheme you've got going on.

"Hey," Albany greeted it, with as much confidence as she could muster, and held her chin high as she gripped her wand.

Assert yourself, Merlin had said, so she stepped closer again, drawing up her shoulders. She was so close that she could see the shine of each individual scale, its muscles rippling as the dragon sized her up, its pacing slowed but stance heightened. Her eyes flicked behind the beast's lashing tail to the nest it was defending; a golden egg shone out among the others. Her ticket out of here.

"Hey," she repeated, louder and firm, returning her gaze to the Short-Snout's head. "Listen, I'm not here to hurt you or your eggs, okay? All I need is the golden one, and I'll be out of your hair."

The dragon's growl grew to a short yet fearsome roar; Albany had no idea if she was communicating successfully or not, but the dragon seemed even angrier, if that was anything to go off of.

Stepping closer, her instincts were warning her, was the worst possible idea right now. The mother dragon had quit pacing, stretching out its incredibly large wings and drawing itself to full height, towering over the brunette. Its chest was heaving and the smoke from its nostrils thickening as its breathing grew stronger; its claws dug into the ground and tail lashed vigorously as pin-prick pupils focused fully on Albany.

Her legs were quivering lightly now, but she kept her wand hand steady, holding it against the dragon with steeled muscles. It was her only defense if the mother decided to attack.

"One egg is all I need," Albany repeated, and wasn't sure where to look; she was so close that she couldn't keep her eye on all of it at once. "And it's not even yours. Nobody needs to get hurt."

The dragon didn't back down. Alright, Albany, time to be brave, she thought fiercely, and bracing herself, stepped forward again.

The mother dragon had had enough.

Albany shrieked and jumped back as it let out a burst of flames where she'd been standing, quickly abandoning any thought of defensive spells. She landed roughly on her side, though didn't feel the pain, scrambling back to her feet with newfound speed.

She resorted to running as the dragon began to charge her, cursing under her breath as she stumbled over the rough landscape of the enclosure. The roars of the crowd came back to life all of a sudden, thunderous shouting deafening her along with the dragon's furious cries.

"Holy shit," Albany gasped, throwing herself to the ground to avoid another stream of blue fire at the last second.

She crawled hurriedly to hide behind a fallen log, which she quickly realised was a terrible idea; the dragon was spreading flames all around the enclosure in an effort to find her, and where her log was singed, the dry timber turned almost instantly to ash.

"Merlin!" she called, panting for breath as she rolled down the slope, nearly collapsing as she dropped onto her feet from a short ledge. "Could use a little help here!"

Merlin appeared to her left with a pop, arms folded as he regarded her state with a raised eyebrow.

"Going well?" he assumed.

"Not exactly!"

She ducked under the ledge to escape another barrage of flames, wincing as a lick of fire burnt her shoulder. Her heart was pounding so hard she worried it might jump out of her chest.

"I said speak to her!" Merlin said.

"I did!" Albany retorted, shooting him an angry glare. "She doesn't want to talk!"

"Speak, not talk!" Merlin said, as if it was the most obvious difference in the world. "Reach for the connection between your souls!"

"I'm not really feeling one!"

Merlin sighed as he watched her break into another sprint; the mother dragon's frustration was growing the longer it was taking to kill the threat. It had leaped down the ledge after her, and let out an earth-shaking roar as it discovered she had run again. Well, he supposed his first run-in with a free dragon hadn't exactly gone swimmingly either.

Albany was busy rushing through her other options as she ran, struggling for breath as she darted behind a boulder to rest. Clearly, being a dragonlord wasn't working out very well, and she would grieve that loss later because she was a little occupied at the minute with a fire-breathing mother dragon in a rage hot on her tail.

Said dragon had found her again, and Albany stumbled backwards, too winded to break into another run. She recalled her wand was still in her hand, and desperately murmured a spell under her breath, pelting the dragon's side with stones from the ground. This did nothing but anger it further, though had bought Albany enough time to catch her breath and make another escape.

The nest ahead of her caught her attention. It seemed she'd come full circle in her running; she had drawn the dragon the entire way around the enclosure and now it was behind her. There was nothing between her and the golden egg but footsteps. It seemed she didn't need to be a dragonlord, or have a plan B, after all — just wing it.

She ran as fast as she possibly could, pumping at the ground with such force she could feel the jolt of each step pound in her head. She could barely breathe, but it was enough to get her to the nest, sweat beading on her forehead as her chest heaved, heart pounding, free hand outstretched—

The dragon threw her to the ground and gave a mighty roar.

Albany's back and head hit solid rock and she might have screamed if the blow hadn't completely deprived her of air; black spots danced in her swaying vision as she lay paralysed, unable to move or breathe. Her wand flew from her hand and disappeared into her peripherals.

The dragon was eager to take advantage of this, and stalked after her like a lion to its prey, revelling in the compromising position she'd been left in. It towered over her as it trapped her beneath its claws, pinning her to the ground; it had blocked out the sun but she couldn't make out much anyway, too dazed to focus her eyes properly.

"Mer—lin," she croaked, mouth opening and closing desperately for air. Her chest heaved as she attempted to recover from being so heavily winded; her ears were ringing so loudly she couldn't make out the horrified screams of the crowd.

Had she been able to see him, she would have noticed that Merlin's cool expression had also fallen into one of panic.

"Speak to her, Albany!" he shouted, though his words sounded like a distant echo in her ears, as if her head had been placed in a fishbowl. "You have to SPEAK!"

Yet Albany could barely breathe under the weight of the dragon's claws. Her vision had gone very hazy, or the air above her had filled with smoke; she realised it was the latter as sparks of blue flame began to flicker in the beast's throat. She was going to die, she realised, because there was no possible way of escaping this, and let her eyes flutter closed in horrible anticipation, too dizzy to keep them open anyway.

She could hear the enclosure gate opening on the other side of the arena, the shouts of dragon handlers too far away to save her. Ludo Bagman had finally shut up, but the noise of the crowd had doubled in exchange, screams of not excitement, but horror. She screwed her eyes shut a little tighter; somehow, in the racket, she was sure she heard her name, a familiar voice....

Her friends.

Albany took a sharp inhale as her eyes shot open; fire was on the tip of the dragon's tongue but the fire in her heart was burning stronger.

"STOP!" she commanded, and the effort of heaving the single word left her breathless for a moment.

The fire died in the dragon's throat. Albany stared it in the eye, burning anger challenging its icy blues.

"You speak," a voice said. It was a deep and grand tone, that resonated... inside Albany's head. She breathed out slowly, mind spinning, yet simultaneously returning to its sense of stillness she'd felt earlier. The dragon was speaking to her, she realised. "You speak our tongue."

"YOU WILL NOT HARM ME," Albany roared, in a voice that didn't entirely feel like her own. The words came naturally, though were unfamiliar on her tongue. The weight on her chest lessened, but the dragon remained.

"Your kind are a rarity," the voice continued. "We have not spoken to a human in many moons."

Albany was burning with questions, but she swallowed them firmly. "I AM YOUR KIN, AND I DEMAND THAT YOU STAND DOWN."

The dragon let out a hiss, shaking its head as if to rid itself of her voice. It was fighting her commands; she felt it.

"STAND DOWN!" she repeated, chest heaving but voice steady.

The dragon growled, and its tail and neck lashed as it fought their connection; reluctantly, it removed its claw from Albany, and began to move backwards, one slow step at a time.

"My eggs," the voice said, and it sounded desperate this time, begging. "Do not harm them."

Albany pushed herself into a sitting position, struggling for breath but filled with a newfound determination. "I WILL SHOW THEM MERCY," she shouted, her voice rumbling in her throat, "IF YOU SHOW ME THE SAME."

The dragon roared, rearing on its back legs and whipping its head back and forth as though it were in pain.

"DRAGON, DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

It fell back to the ground so heavily that Albany was nearly knocked off her feet again; she ignored the instinct to grip her wounded shoulder as she struggled to stand, never breaking eye contact with the beast.

"ANSWER ME!" she demanded, broadening her stance.

The dragon's throat gave a long rumble as it stared her down, body stilled; and then it was lowering itself onto its knees, head bowed in submission to the tiny girl before it.

"You have my word."

Albany nodded curtly. Though she did not doubt the beast's honesty, as she walked steadily towards the nest, she kept her fierce gaze on the winged creature. When she finally broke eye contact to ensure she was retrieving the correct egg, the dragon remained where it was, quiet.

She didn't quite realise she was holding the golden egg until she heard the crowd erupt behind her.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!" Ludo Bagman was practically screaming; she could see him above with the judges, who appeared too shocked to present their scores just yet. "ALBANY BRONWEN HAS HER EGG — AND JUST LOOK AT THAT DRAGON!"

The sudden rush of triumph and relief that washed over Albany was so strong it was dizzying; in an instant, weeks of tension and stress were released from her body so quickly she felt weak at the knees. She turned to the dragon, who had closed its eyes and remained bowed as the handlers approached it curiously; one red-headed young man seemed awfully familiar. Merlin stood at the beast's side, smiling broadly at her.

She grinned at him, feeling giddy, but returned her gaze to the Swedish Short-Snout with an exhale to calm herself.

"Thank you," she spoke to it, and it cracked open an eye to acknowledge her.

"What is your name?" the voice in her head asked.

"Albany Bronwen," she replied. "Do you have a name?"

The dragon nodded subtly, and when it released a puff of smoke as a handler drew closer, she could tell it didn't intend any real harm.

"Oneira," it — she — responded. "I am at your mercy now."

"No," Albany said. "You are free from me. Go home."

Oneira shook her head lightly. "Our souls are bound, Albany Bronwen."

Albany stared, and she must have appeared more confused than she felt, as Oneira let out a grumble that might have been a laugh.

"Have you never met a dragon before?" she teased. "I may physically leave you, but if ever you need me, I will respond to your call. You are a dragonlord."