#gofp7

Harry was woken the next morning by Millicent shoving a copy of the Daily Prophet in his face. Skeeter’s piece turned out to be less of a piece about the tournament and more of a highly colored version of Harry’s life story.

            “Top student?” Millicent laughed.

“Dating Granger?” said Blaise, through his laughter. “It’d be more believable if she had said you were dating Creevey.”

            “What?” Blaise said when Harry gave him a look. “Now there’s two of them,” he said, talking about Colin and his younger brother, Dennis who Harry had met after dinner last night. Harry grabbed the article, and gave it a scan.

            He was not amused.

            Draco was.

“Want a hanky, Potter, in case you start crying in Transfiguration?” He was headed down the hall fielding Malfoy’s remarks when he heard someone else call his name.

            “Hey… Harry!”

He had been fielding hits and insults all day about the article and what Skeeter had apparently uncovered, and he had just had enough.

            “Yeah, that’s right,” Harry shouted. “I’ve just been crying my eyes out over my dead mum and I’m just off to do a bit more….”

            “No, I was just....you dropped your quill.”

            It was Cho Chang.

“Come to get your broomstick signed, Chang? No tips for the competition, Potter,” said Malfoy, sidling up to Harry like they were old chums. Ignoring him, Harry accepted the quill and shrugged Malfoy’s arm off his shoulder.

            “I just wanted to say good luck actually.” She smiled at Harry ignoring Malfoy altogether.

            “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Malfoy smirked at her then at Harry.

            “And I’m sure you’re going to go down in flames you’re first task,” said Malfoy before walking away, perturbed that Harry had turned down Malfoy’s brand of helpfulness once again. “And Chang, count yourself as lucky there’s no Quidditch this year. You really do need the practice!” he shouted after the dark haired girl.       

            Hermione was dealing with her own fair share of unpleasantness as well.

“Stunningly pretty?” laughed Pansy. “That’s a quick quotes quill for you.” Pansy and her gang laughed nastily at Hermione’s retreating back.

            “Oh, Millicent, why couldn’t have Harry been matched up with you.”

“Because Granger,” Millicent said as she took a seat at their table in the library. “No one in their right mind would ever believe I’d accept Potter.”

            Harry looked at Ron for some support. He had just tucked in beside Hermione, but he only said, “Yeah, I agree. Bulstrode needs someone a bit more headstrong and cunning.”

            Millicent shook her head with each new adjective.

“Someone inventive and funny.”

            “Humor is very important,” Millicent said.

“I’m funny,” Harry defended. “Yeah, mate, but Bulstrode needs more backbone, someone who won’t back down when they know she’s wrong.”

            And again Millicent shook her head.

“She needs someone like my brother.”

            “What?” Millicent asked, her head still nodding involuntarily. “No,” she said. “No way in any universe would I ever marry… Fred Weasley. At least give me Percy or the dragon tamer if I’m to one day spawn red headed children. Besides Fred Weasley isn’t any of the things you just said. He’s stubborn and sneaky and definitely not funny….not whatsoever. I mean well….”

            Her voice grew quiet and then she said, “On second thoughts, you might not be so bad, Potter.”

            Harry rolled his eyes, pretending not to notice Millicent’s pink cheeks when Fred and George stopped by and the pair engaged in their usual bout of verbal sparring. As they were leaving, Ron kept him back for a second.

            “No, Ron,” he said. “It’s not true and will never be true. Hermione’s just my friend. I’d be more likely to kiss you than her.”

            Ron laughed, but looked more assured than he had before.

“Is it the ginger?” Ron asked, tugging at his hair.

            “You caught me,” said Harry. “I’ve got a thing for redheads.” Ron and Harry laughed all the way to dinner.

&&&

            Hogsmeade was a disaster. Skeeter was following him around relentlessly in search of her next story. Then Hagrid found him and invited Harry on his date or at least that’s what Harry thought it was before he saw Charlie Weasley approaching them near midnight close to the Forbidden Forest.

            “All right, Hagrid?” the man panted, coming over to talk. “They should be okay now. We put them out with a sleeping draught on the way here, thought it might be better to wake them up in the quiet and the dark”

            “What breeds you got here, Charlie?” asked Hagrid, gazing at the closest one, a black one with something close to reverence.

            “This is a Hungarian Horntail. Then there’s a Common Welsh Green and a Chinese Fireball.”

            Madame Maxime marched toward the creatures in awe. Harry heard Charlie say something about telling her student, but Hagrid assured Charlie that they had just come to look.

            “Really romantic date, Hagrid,” said Charlie.

Harry left, knowing Hagrid wouldn’t miss him.

            “Oh!” someone said as Harry was bumped to the ground. Karkaroff.

Great, now Krum would know too. Harry wished he didn’t.

            He had to tell Sirius. He had to tell Warrington. He had to figure out he was going to make it out of this alive. Because he finally knew what the first task was.

            Dragons.

            Sirius had reassured him that the dragons would be no big deal.

“A simple spell,” he had said. Hermione had other ideas as she ordered him to the library as soon as he told her.

            They had been working for hours when Hermione had to get back to the tower.

“It’s all right, Harry, you’ll get it,” she encouraged him, but Harry wasn’t as sure.

            Then he heard them.

 Ely and Warrington were sitting at one of the nearby tables. Both were seventh years and always seemed to be studying for their NEWTS that were quickly approaching. Harry doubted he could handle that pressure on top of being a champion himself. Which was all the more reason that he had to tell them.

            He walked over to their table when he saw Ely slip away to get another book. He ruffled Warrington’s hair casually and Harry wondered how anyone could do that and live. He quickly made his way over to Warrington.

            Harry shifted from foot to foot waiting for Warrington to acknowledge him, but when he gave no sign as to even seeing Harry, Harry gave him an awkward, “Hi.”

Warrington only grunted.

            Then, looking in the direction Ely had gone.

“What do you want Potter?” said Warrington. “I’ve got plenty to do before the task tomorrow, and I’m sure you do as well.”

            “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about actually.”

“Talking is very overrated.”

            You would think so, Harry thought. Ely seemed to be the one who did most of the talking. It was a bit like being around all of the Weasley’s at once. In the beginning when Harry had first met them and was still a little shy, he never had to say a word unless he didn’t want to. They filled in the conversation brilliantly without him. It had been comforting, and he wondered if Warrington felt that way around Ely?

            “And what are you two talking about? Deciding which one is getting the next cover of Witch Weekly?” said Ely, walking back toward the table. “I’m sure Krum’s had it enough he could stand to pass on the honor in favor of a new handsome face.”

            Harry wasn’t sure but he thought he saw Warrington blush.

“I just needed to talk to Warrington for a moment. I need to tell him something.”

            Harry looked around where Ely had moved in between the two of them, but Warrington was already standing behind Ely having packed his things. He whispered something in the other boy’s ear. At first, Ely looked like he wanted to protest, giving Harry a scathing look, but then nodded leaving the pair alone.

            “Sorry about that,” said Warrington. “He’s just a little protective, especially now.”

Harry nodded. He understood. His friends were behaving exactly the same way.

            “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” said Warrington, preparing to move past Harry, but then Harry said, “Dragons.”

            “What?” asked Warrington.

“The first task, it’s dragons, Fleur and Krum already know. I saw them in the forest the other night.”

            Warrington seemed to take this in like Harry had done in the forest the other night. He looked terrified and Harry wondered if he had looked the same. He was sure he had looked worse.

“And what are we meant to do with them?”

            “I don’t know, but I know that they have one for each of us,” said Harry.

Warrington nodded then said, “Dragons,” under his breath.

            “I just thought you should know, thought it should be even.”

“Thanks, Potter,” the other boy said. “I really appreciate it.”

            As Warrington walked away, Harry turned around and saw Mad-Eye Moody emerging from a nearby classroom. His life as a ferret flashed before his eyes.          

            “In my office, Potter.”

Harry followed Moody and pretended that he didn’t feel his magical eye fixed on his back.

            “That was a very decent thing you just did, Potter. Very stupid, but decent.”

Now, that wasn’t what he had expected at all.

            “Sit down,” said Moody, and Harry sat.

The office looked different now than it did under Lockhart and Remus. What appeared to be a mirror hung opposite Harry on the wall, but it was not reflecting the room. Shadowy figures were moving around inside it, none of them clearly in focus.

            “Like my Dark Detectors, do you?” said Moody, who was watching Harry closely.

“Secrecy Sensor. Vibrates when it detects concealment and lies, no use here of course, too many students lying about why they didn’t do their homework. That mirror is my Foe Glass. See them sulking around in there, well I’m not really in trouble until I can see the whites of their eyes.”

            “So,” said Moody. “Got any ideas how to get past your dragon?”

Harry froze.

            “I didn’t cheat. It was an accident that I even…”

“Don’t worry,” said Moody. “Cheating is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament. But as your Professor I can’t really give you any advice besides it’s always best to play to your strengths. Just think of what you’re best at.”

            Harry wanted to say that he didn’t have any strengths, but he held his tongue. He was good at a few things, Quidditch for one. It was like Moody had read his mind.

            “I head you’re one heck of a flier.”

“But I’m not allowed a broom,” said Harry.

            “Yes,” said Moody. “but you’re allowed a wand.”

            The first person Harry sought after he left Moody was Hermione.

“’Mione, I need your help. I need you to teach me to do a proper summoning charm by tomorrow afternoon.”

            Hermione almost agreed right there to help him out, but then Millicent whispered something in her ear. Hermione and Millicent both gave him a look that did unsettling things to his stomach before Hermione nodded.

            “Okay, but,” she said, reminding him strongly of the girl sitting beside her. “I want you to do something for me, too.”