𓏲 . THE BOY WHO LIVED . .៹♡
                                                     CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
                          ─── MAGICAL QUILLS & DRAGON CHASE

Charlus' ears were ringing. The injustice of it made him want to curse Snape into a thousand slimy pieces. He passed Snape, almost knocking his wand out of his hands, and walked with Harry, Alistair and Ron to the back of the dungeon, and slammed his bag down onto the table.

The other three, especially Ron was shaking with anger too — for a moment, it felt as though everything was back to normal between them, but then Ron turned and sat down with Dean and Seamus instead, leaving Charlus,Harry and Alistair at the table. On the other side of the dungeon, Malfoy turned his back on Snape and pressed his badge, smirking. THE POTTERS STINKS flashed once more across the room.

Charlus sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him....If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse...he'd have Snape flat on his back like that
spider, jerking and twitching...

"Antidotes!" Snape said, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one....."

Snape's eyes met Charlus' and Harry's, and they knew what was coming. Snape was going to poison them. Charlus imagined picking up his cauldron, sprinting to the front of the class, and bringing it down on Snape's greasy head —

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

"Yes?" Snape said curtly. "Please, sir," Collin breathed out, " I'm supposed to take Charlus and Harry Potter and Alistair Black upstairs."

Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face. "The Potters and Black has another hour of Potions to complete," Snape said coldly. "They will come upstairs when this class is finished."

 Colin went pink. "Sir — sir, Mr. Bagman wants them," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs...." "Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potters, Black, leave your things here, I want you three back down here later to test your antidote."

"Please, sir — they got to take their things with them," Colin squeaked. "All the champions —""Very well !" Snape said. "Potters — Black, take your bag and get out of my sight!"

They both swung their bags over their shoulders, got up, and headed for the door. As they walked through the Slytherin desks, THE POTTERS STINKS and BLACK SUCKS flashed at them from every direction.

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

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

 "The Daily Prophet, I think!" "Of course," Charlus muttered, already annoyed with the situation. "Exactly what we need. More publicity."

"Good luck!" Colin said when they had reached the right room. Harry knocked on the door and entered.

They were 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.

Seven chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Charlus 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 Charlus 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 which was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye. Bagman suddenly spotted Charlus, Harry and Alistair, got up quickly and bounded forwards.

"Ah, here they are! Champion number four, five and six! In you come, Charlus,Harry,Alistair, in you come... nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, and maybe a couple of pictures -"

"Wand weighing?" Harry repeated 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," Bagman said. "The experts are 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," Rita Skeeter said, her eyes on Charlus.

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 Charlus before we start?" she said to Bagman, but still gazing fixedly at Charlus. "The youngest champion, you know... to add a bit of color?"

"Harry's younger than me!" Charlus said quickly, pointing at his brother. "Thank you very much..." Harry swore under his breath as he and Rita walked into the broom cupboard.

Five minutes passed before Harry emerged, looking angry. "Good luck," he muttered to his brother. "You're going to need it..."

"Lovely," Rita Skeeter said, and in a second, her scarlet-taloned fingers had Charlus' upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and she was steering him out of the room again and opening a nearby door. "We don't want to be in there with all that noise," she said. "Let's see... ah, yes, this is nice and cozy."

It was a broom cupboard, and Charlus couldn't help but stare at her like she was crazy.

"Come along, dear - that's right - lovely," Rita Skeeter saidagain, perching herself precariously upon an upturned bucket, pushing Charlus down onto a cardboard box, and closing the door,throwing them into darkness, "Let's see now...."

She unsnapped her crocodile-skin handbag and pulled out a handful of candles, which she lit with a wave of her wand and magicked into mid-air, so that they could see what they were doing. "You won't mind, Charlus, if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill? It leaves me free to talk to you normally..."

Charlus shrugged, "Sure, I guess?"

Rita Skeeter's smile widened. Charlus  counted three gold teeth. She reached again into her crocodile bag and drew out a long acid-green quill and a roll of parchment, which she stretched out between them on a crate of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover.

She put the tip of the green quill into her mouth, sucked it for a moment with apparent relish, then placed it upright on the parchment, where it stood balanced on its point, quivering
slightly.

"Testing... my name is Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter."

Charlus looked down quickly at the quill. The moment Rita Skeeter had spoken, the green quill had started to scribble, skidding across the parchment:

Attractive blonde Rita Skeeter, forty-three, who's savage quill has punctured many inflated reputations -

"Lovely," Rita Skeeter said, yet again, and she ripped the top piece of parchment off, crumpled it up and stuffed it into her handbag. Now she leant towards the boy and said, "So, Charlus... what made you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"

"Uh -" Charlus said softly, but he was distracted by the quill. Even though he wasn't speaking, it was dashing across the parchment, and in its wake he could make out a fresh sentence:

An ugly scar, souvenir of a tragic past, disfigures the otherwise charming face of Charlus Potter, whose eyes -

"Ignore the quill, Charlus," Rita Skeeter said firmly. Reluctantly, the boy looked up at her instead. "Now - why did you decide to enter the tournament?" "I didn't," Charlus said, calmly. "I don't know how my name got into the Goblet of Fire. I didn't put it in there."

Rita Skeeter raised one heavily penciled eyebrow. "Come now, Charlus, there's no need to be scared of getting into trouble. We all know you shouldn't really have entered at all, but don't worry about that! Our readers love a rebel."

"But I didn't enter," Charlus repeated. "I don't know who -" "How do you feel about the tasks ahead?" Rita Skeeter said, cutting him off. "Excited? Nervous?"

 "I haven't thought much of it... yeah, nervous, I suppose," Charlus said softly, his insides squirmed uncomfortably as he spoke. "Champions have died in the past, haven't they?" Rita Skeeter said briskly. "Have you thought about that at all?"

Charlus coughed, taken aback by the bluntness of the question, "Well... they say it's going to be a lot safer this year, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't worry me slightly."

The quill whizzed across the parchment between them, back and forward as though it were skating.

"Of course, you've looked death in the face before, haven't you?" Rita Skeeter said, watching him closely. "How would you say that's affected you?" "Uh," Charlus , yet again; what did that have to do with anything?

"Do you think that the trauma in your past might have made you keen to prove yourself? To live up to your name? Do you think that perhaps you were tempted to enter the Triwizard Tournament because-"

"I didn't enter," Charlus said again, starting to feel irritated. "Can you remember your parents at all?" Rita Skeeter said, talking over him.

Charlus gulped, "N-no - but what's that got to do with anything?" "How do you think they'd feel if they knew you were competing in the Triwizard Tournament? Proud? Worried? Angry?""

Charlus was feeling really annoyed now. How on earth was he to know how his parents would feel if they were alive? He could feel Rita Skeeter watching him very intently. Frowning, he avoided her gaze and looked down at words the quill had just written.

Tears fill those startling green eyes as our conversation turns to the parents he can barely remember-

"I do NOT have tears in my eyes!" Charlus spoke loudly. "Do you have a girlfriend perhaps?" Rita Skeeter suddenly asked.

The boy hesitated, then gave an unconvincing shake of his head, "I don't."

"I don't believe it. A handsome young man like yourself must get a lot of attention,right?" Rita Skeeter replied. "Charlus, tell me, don't be shy!"

"I just told you, I do not." "Come on, what's her name?"

"Are you not hearing me?!" Charlus asked angrily, "and I'll be damned if I'm going to sit here, and let you invade my love life, which you have no right to do,or even worse, exploit it for your own personal gain!"

Before Rita Skeeter could say another word, Charlus got up and pulled the door of the broom cupboard open. The faces of the other champions and Ludo Bagman fell upon him as he exited.

To which, he simply huffed, and said, "Who would like to go next?"

After what felt like hours of interviews, photos, and the wand-weighing, Charlus was relieved and remarkably pleased with himself that he had gotten through the day without breaking something out of frustration.

                                ────────⊹⊱🐍⊰⊹────────

A few days had passed, and Charlus sat lake-side with Harry, Alistair and Neville, trying to forget the commotion that was building from the first task approaching.

Charlus had perched himself up by nearby tree, reading one the books Hermione had given him last year for Christmas. Beside him, Harry read a book that Neville had given him, while Neville stood in the shallow of the lake, his pants rolled as he scooped out different types of coral and plants from the lakebed.

Alistair was skipping rocks. He took a rock into his hand, swished it back, and flicked it onto the lake, watching closely as it skipped across the water. Then, he did it again.

"Amazing," Neville gasped as he thoroughly examined a random plant he had picked up. "Neville," Alistair scolded, as he threw another rock, "you're doing it again."

"Oh," Neville frowned slightly; this had been the fifth time he had got lost in fascination. "Right, sorry."

Alistair laughed slightly as Harry spoke from the behind him, holding the book up to Neville, "Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean?" 

"Yeah," Neville said happily. "Moody gave it to me. That day we had tea." "Didn't choke on a rogue eyeball?" Charlus asked, causing  the boy to let out a small huff of laughter.

 "No," he smiled, "I think I got off lucky." "Yeah," Charlus said, reciprocating his smile.

Although Charlus' smile soon dropped. Beside him, Harry persistently tapped his arm causing the light brown-haired boy to turn around to follow his brother's gaze.

To Charlus' surprise, Ginny and Hermione were walking towards them with a rather sullen-looking Ron. Locking eyes briefly, Ron, Charlus, Harry and Alistair registered the presence of one another before Ron whispered something to Hermione.

With one final huff, Hermione moved even closer towards them causing Charlus to jump at the opportunity, and move over next to Harry and Alistair.

 "Ronald would like me to tell you," she began, causing Charlus to frown slightly, "that Seamus told him that Dean was told by Parvati that Hagrid's looking for the three of you."

"Is that right?" Harry replied coldly, peering over Hermione's shoulder at Ron before processing the information, "Wait, what?"

Harry looked at Charlus and Alistair for help, but they were just as confused as the boy was.

Hermione sighed, "Parvati told Dean to tell Ronald" - she gave up half way through and shook her head - "please don't ask me to say it again. Hagrid's looking for the three of you."

As Hermione turned away, Alistair spoke up, "Well, you can tell that dumbass-"

The bushy haired girl whipped back around, anger evident on her face, "I'm not an owl!"

Charlus was fascinated at Hermione's outburst as she returned back to Ginny and Ron, and walked back the way they came without saying another word.

Harry and Alistair were taken aback; they hadn't expected her to react like that, but Charlus simply laughed at their reaction. "She's not an owl," he mimicked before he turned back to Neville who was still gawking at plants in the lake.

"Look at this! It's amazing!"

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At half past eleven that evening, Charlus and Alistair met Harry outside of the Gryffindor common room. They pulled the Invisibility Cloak over themselves, and set off through the castle.

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

"You there, Char? Harry? Alistair?" Hagrid whispered, opening the door and looking around. "Yeah, we're here," Harry said, as they slipped inside the cabin and pulled the cloak down off of their heads. "What's up?"

"Got summthin' ter show yeh," Hagrid said.

There was an air of enormous excitement about Hagrid. He was wearing a flower that resembled an oversized artichoke in his but- tonhole. It looked as though he had abandoned the use of axle
grease, but he had certainly attempted to comb his hair —  Charlus could see the comb's broken teeth tangled in it.

"What're you showing us?" Charlus 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 yerselves covered with that cloak," Hagrid said. "We won' take Fang, he won' like it..." "Listen, Hagrid, we can't stay long... we've got to be back up at the castle -"

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

"Hagrid, what - ?" Alistair started.

"Shhh!" Hagrid said, 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," Hagrid said, beaming at her, and holding out a hand to help her down the golden steps. "Bong-sewer?" Harry whispered to Charlus and Alistair, "Bong-sewer? Is Hagrid alright?"

Alistair had to stifle a laugh as he whispered, "He's lucky we can understand his English, let alone his French."

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 Charlus, Harry and Alistair, totally bewildered, running to keep up with them. Had Hagrid wanted to show them Madame Maxime? They could see her any old time they wanted...she wasn't exactly hard to miss....

But it seemed that Madame Maxime was in for the same treat as the young boys, because after a while she said playfully, "Wair is it you are taking me, 'Agrid?""Yeh'll enjoy this," Hagrid said 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," Madame Maxime said, fluttering her long black eyelashes.

And still they walked, Charlus, Harry and Alistair getting more and more irritated as they jogged along in their wake.

But then - when they had walked so far around the perimeter of the forest that the castle and the lake were out of sight - Charlus 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. Charlus, Harry and Alistair hurried up alongside them - for a split second, they thought they were seeing bonfires - and then their mouths fell open simultaneously.

Dragons.

Six 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; a gigantic red-black one, which was baring it fangs; and a gigantic black one, more lizard-like than the others, which was nearest to them.

But the last one, the last one stood out the most. Its size almost doubled the one closest to them, its scales were dark brown, almost black, glittering in the blue flames that it produced. Its eyes were dark blue, a ferociousness shining within 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, Charlus 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...

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

"This is a Hungarian Horntail," Charlus whispered and pointed to each dragon. "There's a Common Welsh Green over there, the smaller one - a Swedish Short-Snout, that blue-gray - a Chinese Fireball, that's the red - a Ukrainian Hellfire, that red-black - and a French Thunder, the largest one."

"How do you know that?" Harry whispered, slightly astonished. "After spending a summer with Charlie Weasley," Charlus laughed softly, "I'm surprised you don't know that."

Charlus looked around; Madame Maxime was strolling away around the edge of the enclosure, gazing at the stunned dragons. That was when Harry had removed the cloak from three of their heads.

"Dragons?!" he whispered to Hagrid, "That's the first task?" "You're joking!" Alistair exclaimed, watching the creatures.

"Come on, you two," Hagrid said, still gazing, enraptured, at the dragons. "These are seriously misunderstood creatures."

Suddenly two dragons roared loudly and breathed fire. "Although, I have to admit, those Horntail and Thunder right nasty peice of works," Hagrid said. "Poor Ron nearly fainted seeing them, ya know?"

"Ron was here?" Alistair asked, furrowing his brows. "Oh sure. His brother Charlie helped to bring them over from Romaina," Hagrid told them, "Didn't Ron tell you that?"

"No he didn't," Charlus growled, "He didn't tell us a damn thing...."

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As Charlus, Harry and Alistair reached the castle, slipped in through the front doors, and began to climb the marble stairs; they were very out of breath. When they got into the Gryffindor common room, Harry pulled off the invisibility cloak, and Charlus looked around to see the entire room deserted, much to his surprise.

A chill breeze was coming in from the open window, and the only sound heard throughout the room was the cackling of the fireplace which -

Sssssss!

Charlus, Harry and Alistair shared a confused glance as they moved over to the fireplace, which was spewing out sparks and sizzling hastily. Then, slowly the flames began to mutate, moulding themselves into the faces of Sirius Black and Daniel White-Riddle.

"Sirius! Daniel!" Harry gasped, completely astonished, "What - how - ?" "We're wizards, Harry," Sirius joked, causing his face to crumble like ash, only to then reform, "We do this kind of thing."

Daniel surveyed the room, looking from Harry to Charlus to Alistair, "So, Triwizard Champions. Congratulations."

Charlus grimaced, "Thanks, I guess." "How are you three doing?" Sirius asked curiously.

"We're..." Alistair trailed off, he was going to say, we're fine, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

Instead, he told his uncles about everything that had happened. About out how no one believed that they hadn't entered the tournament on their own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied in the Daily Prophet, how they couldn't walk down a corridor without being sneered at — and about Ron, Ron not believing them, Ron's jealousy....

"...and now Hagrid's just shown us what's coming in the first task, and it's dragons, Sirius, Daniel, and we're goners," Alistair finished desperately.

Daniel looked at them, eyes full of concern, eyes that had not yet lost the look that Azkaban had given them - that deadened, haunted look. He and Sirius had let  Alistair talk himself into silence without interruption, but now he said, "Dragons we can deal with, Alistair, but we'll get to that in a minute - Sirius and I haven't got long here... we've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things we need to warn you three about."

"What?" Harry said, feeling his spirits slip a further few notches... Surely there could be nothing worse than dragons coming?

"Karkaroff," Sirius said simply. "He was a Death Eater - you know what Death Eaters are, don't you?" "Yes, of course," Charlus said, puzzled, "but what? Karkaroff's a Death Eater?"

Daniel nodded ,"He was caught, he was in Azkaban with us, 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 caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."

"Karkaroff got released?" Harry said slowly - his brain seemed to be struggling to absorb yet another piece of shocking information. "Why did they release him?"

"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," Sirius said 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," Alistair said slowly. "But... are you saying Karkaroff put our names in the Goblet?" "If he did, he's a really good actor," Harry said. "He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop us from competing."

"Wait, wait," Charlus furrowed his brows, "If Karkaroff is a Death Eater, and  he put our names in the Goblet of Fire... does that mean Voldemort knows about the tournament? Is that what you're insinuating? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?"

"I don't know," Daniel said 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 names in that Goblet did it for a reason, and I can't help thinking that the tournament would be a very good way to attack, only to then, make it look like an accident. You three must be careful -"

But Harry held up a hand to silence him. Charlus and Alistair looked at him confusedly, but then they heard it, their hearts pounding as though they would burst. They could hear footsteps coming down the spiral staircase behind them.

"Go!" they hissed at Sirius and Daniel. "Go! There's someone coming!"

The three heard a tiny pop in the fire behind them, and knew Sirius and Daniel had gone. Charlus turned and watched the bottom of the spiral staircase.

It was Ron.

Dressed in his maroon paisley pajamas, Ron stopped dead facing Charlus,Harry and Alistair across the room, and looked around. "Who were you talking to?" he said, looking slightly annoyed.

Alistair was quick to say, "Each other." "What's that got to do with you, anyways?" Harry snarled. "What are you doing down here at this time of night?"

"I just wondered where you -" Ron broke off, shrugging. "Nothing. I'm going back to bed."

With that, he turned back around, walked up the stairs, and didn't say another word. "Right foul git," Harry muttered, "thanks to him, Sirius and Daniel never told us how to get passed the dragons."

Charlus sighed, thinking for a moment, until suddenly, an idea formed in his head. "Harry," he said, causing his brother to look at him, "you can use your Stag Patronus to distract the dragon."

Harry's eyes lit up as he heard that. The Patronus Charm; that was the plan.

"That's brilliant!" he said, beaming, "but - what about you? Won't it be obvious if we use the same strategy? They might think we're working together - something they specifically said we're not allowed to do."

Charlus grinned, "I'm the Slytherin Seeker for a reason."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, " Yeah, Charlus, you're a damn good flier! But what's that got to do with -" "What if he had his broom in the arena?" Alistair said excitedly, cutting his friend off.

"We're not allowed anything, we've only got our wands-" "Exactly!" Charlus said a little too loudly, interrupting him, "I use my wand then! Summon a broom!"

Harry nodded, glad that his brother had a plan too. "Okay. And what's is your strategy, Alistair?"

"After our little chat with the big, friendly dogs," Alistair replied, referring to Sirius and Daniel, causing his friends to laugh. "I have a strategy that I think could work."

Without further questioning, Charlus and Harry nodded. The three young champions seemed to be ready to conquer the First Task in the Triwizard Tournament.

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Charlus barely slept that night. When he awoke the next day, he seriously considered for the first time ever just running away from Hogwarts. But as he looked around the Great Hall at breakfast time, and thought about what leaving the castle would mean, he knew he couldn't do it. He couldn't leave Hermione.

He finished his bacon with difficulty (his throat wasn't working too well), and as he, Harry, Alistair and Hermione got up, he saw Cedric Diggory leaving the Hufflepuff table.

Cedric still didn't know about the dragons...the only champion who didn't, if Charlus was right in thinking that Maxime and Karkaroff would have told Fleur and Krum....

"Mione,Harry,Alistair, I'll see you in the greenhouses," Charlus said, coming to his decision as he watched Cedric leaving the Hall. "Go on, I'll catch you up."

"Char, you'll be late, the bell's about to ring -" Hermione said. "I'll catch you three up, okay?" Charlus replied.

"Come on, Hermione," Alistair said, already sensing that Hermione would try to retort back. He linked his arm with hers and dragged her away.

By the time Charlus reached the bottom of the marble staircase, Cedric was at the top. He was with a load of sixth-year friends. Charlus  didn't want to talk to Cedric in front of them; they were among those who had been quoting Rita Skeeter's article at him every time he went near them.

The boy followed Cedric at a distance and saw that he was heading toward the Charms corridor. This gave Charlus an idea. Pausing at a distance from them, he pulled out his wand, and took careful aim.

"Diffindo!"

The bag split. Parchment, quills, and books spilt out of it onto the floor. Several bottles of ink smashed. "Don't bother," Cedric said in an exasperated voice, as his friends bent down to help him, "tell Flitwick I'm coming, go on..."

This was exactly what Charlus  had been hoping for. He slipped his wand back into his robes, waited until Cedric's friends had disappeared into their classroom, and hurried up the corridor, which was now empty of everyone but himself and Cedric.

"Hi,"  Cedric said, picking up a copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration that was now splattered with ink. "My bag just split... brand new and all..."

"I need to talk to you really quickly," Charlus said, hurriedly. "What is it? Everything okay?" Cedric asked, looking up at the boy with worry.

"Diggory," Charlus said, "the first task is dragons." "What?" Cedric muttered, dropping a book he picked up.

"Dragons," Charlus repeated, speaking quickly, in case Professor Flitwick came out to see where Cedric had got to. "They've got six, one for each of us, and we've got to get past them."

Cedric stared at him. Charlus saw a little panic flicker in Cedric's grey eyes.  "Are you sure?" he asked in a hushed voice. "Dead sure," Charlus said, giving Cedric a nod. "I've seen them."

"But how did you find out? We're not supposed to know..."

 "Never mind that," Charlus said quickly - he knew Hagrid would be in trouble if he told the truth. "But I'm not the only one who knows. Fleur and Krum will know by now - Maxime and Karkaroff both saw the dragons, too."

Cedric straightened up, his arms full of inky quills, parchment, and books, his ripped bag dangling off one shoulder. He stared at Charlus, and there was a puzzled, almost suspicious look in his eyes.

"Why are you telling me?" he asked.

Charlus looked at him in disbelief. He was sure Cedric wouldn't have asked that if he had seen the dragons himself. Charlus wouldn't have let his worst enemy face those monsters unprepared – well, maybe Malfoy or Snape...

"It's just...fair, isn't it?" he said to Cedric. "We all know now...we're on an even footing, aren't we?"

Cedric was still looking at him in a slightly suspicious way when Charlus said, "I better get to Herbology, Professor Sprout is going to feed me to one of her plants if I'm any later."

With these words, the boy began to walk away

"Hey Potter!"

Charlus turned around and saw Cedric calling to him. "Thank you," he said. The light brown-haired boy gave him a curt nod before he walked to Herbology.

                                      ────────⊹⊱🐍⊰⊹────────

Without realising it,the day of the First task has arrived. Charlus had gotten dressed in his black and green clothes that displayed his last name on the back. With his wand, holstered on his belt, he was as ready as he was ever going to be.

He made his way with Harry and Alistair to the meeting point where Professor McGonagall was standing, waiting for them. She led them towards 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, Charlus 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," Professor McGonagall said, in a rather shaky sort of voice, "Good luck, you three."

"Thanks," Harry and Alistair said, in a flat, distant voice. Charlus, however, couldn't produce words so he gave McGonagall a brief nod before heading inside with them.

Upon entering, Charlus saw that 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 Charlus guessed was his way of showing nerves. Cedric was pacing up and down, but when he noticed the boys, he gave them a small smile, which Charlus, Harry and Alistair returned.

Each of them had a designated corner of the tent. Charlus took his corner, pacing back and forth slightly, his nerves at an all time high. Though he was quickly snapped from his thoughts momentarily when he heard it-

"Pssst, Charlus!"

The boy looked around, slightly confused, before witnessing the back flap of the ten move slightly. As he approached it, the voice spoke again, and he immediately recognised who it was.

"Charlus," Hermione Granger said nervously, as they stood next to one another, separated by a single sheet of cloth, "How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

Charlus sighed contently; her voice was exactly what he needed to hear in order to calm his nerves. "Yeah..." he said slowly, "I'm okay."

Hermione nodded as if to convince herself that he was telling the truth, "The key is to concentrate, after that you just need to -"

Charlus laughed slightly, trying to remove the worry from his best friend's voice, "Step outside and battle a dragon."

Then, overcome with emotion, Hermione couldn't help herself. She pushed back the cloth that was separating them, and threw her arms around him in a tight hug; she just wanted to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay.

But before she could even get the words out -

FLASH!

Rita Skeeter had entered the tent, followed by a photographer, who was grinning widely at the shot he had just captured of Charlus and Hermione.

"Ah, young love," Rita said with a taunting smirk, , "oh how... stirring! If everything goes unfortunately today, you two might make the front page!"

Charlus and Hermione pulled away at her words, and simply sent Rita a glare for ruining the moment. "You haff no business 'ere!" a strong accent said, "Dis is for de champions! And deir... friends!"

Everyone turned slightly, and were shocked to see that Viktor Krum could actually speak. Rita Skeeter surveyed Krum, before looking between him, Charlus, and Hermione with a slight smirk. "No matter," she smiled devilishly, "we got exactly what we needed anyway."

Then, as she moved to the edge of the tent, Dumbledore entered with Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Barty Crouch, and Ludo Bagman. "Good day, champions!" Dumbledore addressed as Charlus, Harry, Fleur, Cedric,Alistair and Viktor assembled in a semi-circle before him.

Without drawing too much attention to it, Hermione had slipped her hand into Charlus' as he joined the other champions; just to let him know that she was still with him.

"Now,you've waited," Dumbledore continued, "you've wondered, and at last, the moment has arrived. The moment only six of you can fully appreciate. Which begs the question," - he turned to Hermione with a slight smirk as he glanced down to the boy's hand interlocked with hers - "what're you doing here, Miss Granger?"

"Oh," Hermione said slightly taken aback after being singled out, "Sorry, I'll - just go, I guess."

She gave Charlus' hand one last squeeze. "Good luck, Charlus," she whispered as she released his hand before she stepped out of the tent to find her seat in the audience.

"Well, now its time to fill you in!" Bagman said 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!"

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

In no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking....And then - it seemed like about a second later to Charlus - 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 three around its neck and Charlus knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.

Alistair put his hand into the bag, and out came the dragon he had been dreading. The French Thunder. The dragon taunted him as his eyes focused on the number six around its neck.

Karkaroff had appeared to have told Krum too as he pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number four 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-grey Swedish Short-Snout, the number two tied around its neck.

 Charlus sighed as he reached into the bag and pulled out the Ukrainian Hellfire. It had the number one around its neck- oh Merlin, why did he have to be first?

Knowing what was left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number five. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

"Well, there you are!" Bagman said. "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. Potter, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right?"

Charlus nodded reluctantly, and the small crowd dispersed. His brother had tried to wish him luck, but all that came out of his mouth was a sort of hoarse grunt before he went back to his corner of the tent and Alistair had sent his friend a small smile. The light brown-haired took his position at the entrance to the arena, awaiting the beginning of the task.

Then, as if on cue, the whistle had blown.

Charlus walked out through the entrance of the tent, the panic rising into a crescendo inside him. Looking back into the tent once more, he gulped as he stepped out into the enclosure.

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, awaiting his next move.

And there it was; the Hellfire, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, orange eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, red-black lizard, thrashing her tail,leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground.

The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, Charlus 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 took a deep breath and raised his wand. "Accio Firebolt!" he shouted.

Charlus waited, every fiber of him hoping, praying....If it hadn't worked...if it wasn't coming...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... Bagman was shouting something... but Charlus' 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 Hellfire shrank to the size of a dog, he realized that he had left not only the ground behind, but also his fear....He was back where he belonged....

This was just another Quidditch match, that was all...just another Quidditch match, and that Hellfire was just another ugly opposing team...

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. "Okay," Charlus told himself, "diversionary tactics...let's go...."

He dived. The Hellfire'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 the boy didn't care...that was no more than dodging a Bludger....

"Great Scott, he can fly!"  Bagman yelled as the crowd shrieked and gasped.

Charlus soared higher in a circle; the Hellfire was still following his progress; its head revolving on its long neck- if he kept this up, it would be nicely dizzy -but better not push it too long, or it would be breathing fire again -

Charlus plummeted just as the Hellfire opened its mouth, but this time he was less lucky - he missed the flames, but the tail came whipping up to meet him instead, and as he swerved to the
left, one of the long spikes grazed his shoulder, ripping his robes-

He let out a yell of pain as he looked down and saw blood spilling out and staining his robes. "Bastard," he hissed.

He could feel it stinging, he could hear screaming and groans from the crowd, it could possibly have been Hermione, but the cut didn't seem to be deep....Now he zoomed around the back of the Hellfire, and a possibility occurred to him...

The Hellfire 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 orange eyes on Charlus, she was afraid to move too far from them...but he had to persuade her to do it, or he'd never get near them...The trick was to do it carefully, gradually...

He began to fly, first this way, then the other, not near enough to make her breathe fire to stave him off, but still posing a sufficient threat to ensure she kept her eyes on him. Her head swayed this way and that, watching him out of those vertical pupils, her fangs bared....

He flew higher. The Hellfire's head rose with him, her neck now stretched to its fullest extent, still swaying, like a snake before its charmer....

Charlus rose a few more feet, and she let out a roar of exasperation. He was like a fly to her, a fly she was longing to swat; her tail thrashed again, but he was too high to reach now....She shot fire into the air, which he dodged...Her jaws opened wide....

"Come on," Charlus hissed, swerving tantalisingly above her, "come on, come and get me...up you get, now..."

And then she reared, spreading her great, red-black, leathery wings at last, as wide as those of a small airplane - and Charlus dived.

Before the dragon knew what he had done, or where he had disappeared to, he was speeding toward the ground as fast as he could go, toward the eggs now unprotected by her clawed front legs -he had taken his hands off his Firebolt - he had seized the golden egg-

And with a huge spurt of speed, he was off, he was soaring out over the stands, the heavy egg safely under his uninjured arm, and it was as though somebody had just turned the volume back up - 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 -

"YEEESS!!! WHOHOO! GO CHARLUS!" Hermione yelled, by far yelling the loudest, clapping so much her hands were going numb.

"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! Charlus Potter gets his egg in a record-breaking ten minutes! He's done it! What a spectacle! That'll be incredibly hard to beat!"

Charlus saw the dragon keepers rushing forward to subdue the Hellfire, 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!

━━ AUTHORS NOTE

Happy new year everyone! Phew! That chapter took longer than expected!The first one in 2025!!

First task is done! I'd get excited... because we all know what comes in between task one and task two... 👀

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Please, don't forget to vote and share if you do, and if you want, comment too ! I'd really appreciate it <3

Thank you for reading this far.

Much love to you all, until next time ❤️