Consort of Destined Death Chapter 8

“Potter! Where have you been?!” McGonagall looked barking mad when she spotted him walking in the hallway, headed in the direction of the Great Hall.

“Hi, Professor.” He tried not to grimace at her furious expression. “I’ve been… training for the tournament. Now I’m on my way to breakfast.”

Students gave him strange looks as they passed him in the hallway, before whispers erupted from onlookers all around. He hadn’t done anything to cause a scene, at least not recently, and yet it seemed everyone was still focused on him.

It might have been something to do with his disappearance, as after the weighing of the wands he had returned to the Lands Between and not come back to Hogwarts until now, being the day of the First Task of the tournament.

“It better have been worth it, Potter.” McGonagall’s harsh Scottish tongue cracked like a whip. “I had sent for you the other day, and yet no one knew where you were. You may have new liberties afforded to you as champion, but that doesn’t mean you can flee the school as you wish.”

“Sorry—” He tried to apologize, only for her to interrupt.

“Well it’s too late now.” She cut him off. “Far too late. The day of the first task is here, and yet you have no idea what you’ll be facing.”

“I thought the first task was supposed to be a secret?”

McGonagall closed her eyes, and he got the impression she was counting backwards from a hundred in that moment. “Go and enjoy breakfast, Potter. My only hope is that it won’t be the last meal you’ll ever eat.”

That was rather harsh. He didn’t bother to respond, as his legs carried him to the Great Hall and then in the direction of the Gryffindor table once inside. More students stopped and stared as he entered, pausing mid-meal as they observed him. Harry didn’t bother giving them any thought, sitting alone as he began piling his plate with breakfast foods. Finally a good house-elf-cooked meal.

Him, Melina, and Millicent had only arrived at a site of grace several hours before, allowing him to travel back to Hogwarts so he could show up for the first task. They were still making their way through the southern part of Liurnia, hunting and scavenging food as they went. With that said, Harry appreciated the meals cooked by the Hogwarts kitchens infinitely more than the various animals he had roasted over a campfire for food as of late.

Too bad the others aren’t here. Millicent had pleaded for him to bring her and Melina to Hogwarts with him so they could watch the first task, but in the end he had decided against it. It would go poorly if he suddenly showed up with the two girls unannounced and unplanned, as Hogwarts and its population were much different compared to what they were used to in the Lands Between. A horde of issues could arise, from having to hide their identities to blending in with the crowds and not drawing attention to themselves.

Harry was under constant scrutiny as a Champion, as well as for being the Boy-Who-Lived, meaning every action he took was watched. It was a wonder he had been able to sneak down to the Chamber of Secrets and get to the Lands Between in the first place, and if he suddenly started associating with new people, then it would surely get unwanted attention.

That didn’t mean he was alone however, as he looked across the Great Hall and to the Slytherin table, where a familiar blonde was also looking his way. Daphne Greengrass caught his eye from across the room, and the Slytherin blonde’s expression minutely changed in that moment. A flash of concern and uncertainty crossed her features, before it went back to that icy facade she was so well known for.

The Slytherin Ice Queen and him had yet to talk after the intimate interaction they had shared in the girl’s bathroom, and he had no idea when they would be able to do so. He didn’t know how the blonde actually felt about him, whether he was a notch in her bedpost or someone she wanted to be in a genuine relationship with.

I’ll need to figure that out. Harry wasn’t exactly the best when it came to emotional topics. And despite his newfound courage when dealing with maidens, that didn’t equate to him having all the answers. It’s something to deal with after the task.

He stood and left the Great Hall, navigating the grand hallways of Hogwarts as he soon exited the school and walked across the grounds. A large wooden stadium had been constructed specifically for the first task of the Tournament, and he joined in with the crowds of students making their way towards it.

Most of them sent him foul looks or simply glared, distancing themselves from him like he carried a plague. But that didn’t mean everyone was against him, as one of the few people who was nice to him since the tournament started came running over.

“Harry, wait up!” Susan Bones rushed over to him, her ponytail whipping back and forth. “I just want you to know I’m rooting for you!”

“Thanks.” He replied with a smile. “I really do appreciate it, Susan.”

The girl blushed bright red, her eyes suddenly downcast as she spoke nervously as they walked together. “You know… Harry, after the task would you… umm-”

“Mr. Potter!” McGonagall’s voice interrupted as she walked over towards him. “The Tournament is about to start, and you’re needed in the Champions tent!”

He nodded to the older Professor, before looking back at Susan who’s eyes were wide. “You can tell me later, Susan.”

He turned and crossed the grounds to a tent that was connected to the arena, as McGonagall held the flap open for him to enter.

“Harry! Good to see you!” Ludo Bagman greeted him as he walked in, finding the other champions already waiting in the tent anxiously.

Cedric gave Harry a nod and grin, and he returned it. Krum was busy pacing, a scowl on his lips. Meanwhile Fleur Delacour looked terrified, sitting in a chair alone as her hands shook. She looked so different from the condescending and arrogant attitude she usually put on, to the point it genuinely surprised him.

Maybe it’s just an act for her? It seemed off that the French girl would act so haughty and icy, and he wondered if it was all just a performance she put on to fool people. He remembered that the girl was a Veela, someone whose magic called out to and seduced men, as well as how the article Skeeter wrote had infuriated her so much. Clearly the girl had something to prove, being that she wanted to show everyone she was more than just a pretty face. Clearly there’s more to her than meets the eye.

In a way, it reminded him eerily of himself, and how Harry also wanted to prove himself to the world. He desired to be known for being something other than the Boy-Who-Lived, famous for being someone who survived Voldemort when his parents did not.

Perhaps that had been why the Sorting Hat tried so hard to place him in Slytherin when he arrived at Hogwarts, having witnessed his ambition and the desire to prove himself. Maybe it was also why he was chosen as a Tarnished and called by Grace to the Lands Between.

Save those thoughts for later, Harry. He shook his head, trying not to get distracted as the Tournament Judges approached them to begin the task.

“Now that you’re all here, it’s time to fill you in.” Bagman held up a bag gleefully. “Each of you will select a model of what you are about to face! There are different… types, of species—oh! And your task will be to collect the golden egg!”

“Thank you, Mr. Bagman.” Crouch coughed at the man’s excessiveness. “I believe we shall let the witch go first. Ms. Delacour?”

Fleur Delacour nodded and reached into the bag with a quivering hand, pulling out a small model of a green dragon. The French Champion’s expression didn’t show any surprise, only determination, almost like she knew about the dragons beforehand.

This must be what McGonagall was trying to warn me about. He resisted the urge to curse, along with the rising panic he felt in that moment. The Headmistress had likely been trying to warn Harry about the dragons before the first task, and yet with him away from the school, she had been unable to get to him.

He had seen dragons before in the Land’s Between, specifically the sickly looking ones in Caelid. They had all been thin and spiky, dangerous-looking as well as in a rabid state of mind. He could only hope that the dragon he was about to face would be more tame, and wouldn’t blast him with scarlet rot like the Caelid dragons would.

“And Mr. Potter?” Bagman turned to him last, holding the bag open for him.

He reached into pulled out a model of a dark dragon covered in dangerous spikes and scales. Just from a quick glance he could tell it would be dangerous to get too close to such a beast, as the many spikes across its body would be able to impale him.

I really need to think about wearing armor. The Merchants he had met in the Lands Between had all tried to sell him armor, and yet he had refused in favor of keeping his Hogwarts robes. He regretted that decision now, as at least he could use a sword against the Horntail if he was wearing armor. He could always try and dodge whatever attacks the dragon sent his way, but Harry wasn't nearly as nimble as Millicent was when it came to avoiding hits. Better to stick to long-range spells.

“…Mr. Potter?” The call of his name brought him back to present, as he looked up to see the Tournament Judges, along with the other Champions watching him with concern. Even Fleur was looking at him with… pity? Clearly the group thought that he was terrified out of his mind when really he was thinking hard about how to go about combatting the Horntail.

“I’m fine.” He replied evenly.

Bagman nodded. “Very well then, each of you will go in accordance to what number your dragon has around its neck. You will know when its your turn when the whistle sounds.”

The judges soon left, leaving the group of them alone to wallow in their thoughts. It was stressful to say the least, as each Champion went to their own corner of the tent as they waited.

Diggory was called first, and Harry couldn’t hear anything as the tent was enchanted as to not let any sound enter. He could guess what was happening though, imagining that the crowd was cheering on the real Hogwarts Champion fanatically while himself, Delacour, and Krum anxiously waited in the tent.

It felt like eternity until the whistle sounded, and Delacour stood up to go. Her entire body was shaking this time, unlike before where it was just her hands. The blonde Beauxbatons Champion caught his eye as she made her way out, and Harry gave her a subtle nod of encouragement. For some reason that gesture made her freeze mid-step, her eyes widening in shock, before she managed to recollect herself and walked out of the tent with her head held high.

Delacour was much faster than Diggory, to the point that he nearly gaped in astonishment when the whistle blew. Krum didn’t look Harry’s direction, his body stiff as he shot up from his seat and marched out of the tent with determination.

That just left him alone to stew in his own misery, very aware of how quiet his surroundings were in that silent tent. He could feel the hairs on his arms standing up, his heart pumping loudly, all while he gripped his wand tightly. He wondered why he was nervous, why he wasn’t more excited for what was about to happen.

Ambition, glory, fame, did it not all go hand in hand? And here he was in the Triwizard Tournament, ready to show off his skill in front of hundreds of onlookers. He should’ve been looking forward to such a thing, and yet he couldn’t get the bad taste out of his mouth.

The whistle sounded, and Harry made his way out on stiff legs, his body feeling like lead as he left the tent and made his way into the arena.

It was a colosseum, hundreds of face stared down at him from above, leaving him stranded in a rocky enclosure and alone with the Hungarian Horntail. The dragon was on the other side of the arena, standing protectively over a nest of eggs, watching him warily.

But it wasn’t the dragon that had his full attention in that moment, rather it was his internal thoughts that had his full attention. It was as Harry looked up at all the expectant faces that he realized something, being that he didn’t desire to impress them at all. He didn’t care about making a name for himself, nor proving his might to the rest of the world. What he cared about was working with others to achieve things.

He didn’t want to become Elden Lord on his own. He wanted people like Melina and Millicent to help him do it, and even Ranni and Malenia if they would lend their assistance. Winning tournaments and gaining glory on an individual basis meant nothing to him, but to do so with others was something he liked. Guess muggles were right to say it’s all about the friends we make along the way…

He walked towards the dragon casually, his wand in his grip as the audience muttered anxiously. They probably thought he was mad, that he didn’t have a plan, and that he had cracked under pressure.

The Hungarian Horntail watched him all the while, not moving from its place protectively over its nest, still eyeing him carefully. It was like it was waiting for him to make the first move, but Harry wasn’t dumb enough to believe it wouldn’t attack until he did.

And so it was as he got close to the point that he was just out of the dragon’s reach, enough that it would have to leave its nest to attack him, that he stopped. He funneled power into his wand, flaring his magic for his first attack.

In front of him, three massive boulders erupted from the ground, hovering in the air while surrounded by purple energy. In the background, the crowd got louder in excitement, and with a wave of his wand, he sent the three boulders soaring towards the dragon. That was all the permission the dragon needed, as it roared and charged.

The Horntail was a terrifying mass of interlocking plates and pointy spikes. It was the apex predator among its kind, the type of beast that took teams of wizards working together to subdue. And as much as Harry hated to admit it… it was simply not worth the effort to try and slay the creature by himself.

The beast held no runes, meaning he couldn’t grow stronger from slaying it, and using all of his abilities to kill such a creature would show off too much of his skill. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to simply give up or take the easiest path forward.

He slammed his wand upwards, using gravitational magic once again as rock spikes erupted from the ground between him and the charging dragon. He timed the spell almost perfectly, and one of said spikes impaled the beast’s legs, causing it to let out a screech of pain.

Looks like I pissed it off. He could see the Horntail’s throat glow, signifying that it was about to breathe fire. He twirled his wand in a sideways ‘S’ shape, imagining a waterfall coming through his wand. “Aguamenti!”

Water erupted from his wand, spraying across the arena like a tsunami right as the dragon opened its jaw. Fire so bright that it blocked out the sun came from its throat, meeting his water spell midair and filling the immediate area with steam. It blocked the Horntail temporarily from his view, but Harry could still hear the creature barreling towards him, seeking to kill Harry before it returned to its nest.

That was all the permission he needed. He turned and ran to the other side of the arena, away from the dragon. The crowd was jeering in the background, and he heard several taunts of him being a coward. But Harry just wanted the dragon to leave its nest, to approach him and get far enough away that he could use his next spell.

This should be far enough.

He stopped in the center of the arena, before raising his wand high and focusing. He closed his eyes as he concentrated on the gravity sorceries he had been learning. He had used such magic many times before, but never on the scale he was about to attempt.

His power flared outwards, cracking the very ground beneath his feet as the earth shook. He could hear the crowd in the stands hush, exclamations of surprise erupted from some as nearby rocks and pebbles began to swirl around him. He pushed an insane amount of magic into the spell, causing entire boulders to lift off the ground and get pulled his direction.

It was like he was the center of a Tesla coil, purple lightning arching outwards wildly signifying the use of gravitational magic on a scale he had never utilized before.

The Hungarian Horntail made a confused whimpering noise as it too was affected, its front claws lifted off the ground and pulled Harry’s direction. The dragon’s eyes widened in shock, cautiously backing up as it tried to make sense of the situation, but it was far too late. The dragon was soon moved across the earth in Harry’s direction, its claws scraping uselessly across the earth as it was dragged towards him.

The beast weighing several tons picked up speed as it was soon flung head over heels, all while colliding with large chunks of stone that were also pulled from the earth while midair. It roared and cried out in panic, its body being bruised and battered, but Harry didn’t dare stop the incantation. He didn’t stop it when the dragon was barreling towards him like a semi truck on the highway, nor when the beast clawed outwards in a futile attempt to stop whatever was happening.

Soon he was the epicenter of a gravitational tornado, filled with large chunks of rocks along with a raging Hungarian Horntail. It swirled around him, with him as the untouched epicenter, picking up speed as the rocks collided brutally with the dragon’s body and turned into fine bits of dust on impact.

Sweat ran down his brow, his legs shook as he held the spell long enough that his vision went dark at the edges, yet he only stopped it when the dragon stopped moving. He could only hope the beast was unconscious or dead, as dealing with a furious dragon was something he wanted to avoid in this state.

He soon stopped the spell and sent the dragon to the arena’s floor in a great heap, its wings in tatters and body scarred, which wasn’t helped by the levitating boulders that landed on top of it. Yet its chest was still moving in and out with each breath, signifying that it was at least alive, and hopefully injured enough not to chase him.

I could kill it if I wanted to. He stared at the dragon before deciding otherwise and looking over at its nest of eggs. Now is my chance.

The dragon was disoriented and buried in rock, allowing Harry to make his move. He brought out his trusty whistle, and Torrent appeared out of motes of blue light. Soon he was on a mad sprint across the ruined arena atop his spectral steed, headed directly for the dragon’s nest.

The crowd was quiet except for a couple murmurs, but soon he could hear clapping, and then full-on cheers as the entire stadium was on its feet in applause. He made to the top of the nest where the dragon eggs were, and dismissed Torrent before picking up the golden egg from amongst the bunch.

Behind him, dragon handlers scrambled into the arena all while muttering swears and sending Harry irritated looks. It wasn’t his fault that he was selected to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, and it certainly wasn’t his fault that he had to fight off a dragon.

“You did excellent, Potter!” Professor McGonagall was there to greet him as he walked out, ushering him towards another tent. “Madam Pomfrey will see you now, and then the judges will give you your score.”

He nodded and walked into the medical tent, the golden egg in hand. Inside the tent both Krum and Diggory were laid out as Madam Pomfrey worked on them. Krum had several cuts and looked heavily bruised, while Diggory looked much worse. Most of the older Hufflepuff’s body was covered in bandages with several of his bones clearly being broken.

Fleur, however, didn’t have so much as a scratch on her. Her robes were still pristine, her hair perfect, and whatever anxiousness she displayed earlier was gone. Oddly, she watched him intensely as he entered, not taking her eyes off him.

“Potter! Sit down now!” Madam Pomfrey barked, finally having noticed him as she left Diggory’s side and ushered him towards an empty cot. She began casting diagnostic spells on him as he sat. “Dragons?! Can you believe it! I ought to kill whoever organized this ridiculous tournament!”

“I didn’t get injured.” He failed to restrain a grin at her complaining.

“I find that hard to believe.” Indeed, his robes were covered in dirt and sweat. The dust kicked up from his last spell had covered him head-to-toe, and that wasn't to mention that he hadn’t taken a shower or changed outfits while in the Lands Between at all. The mediwitch soon realized that he was indeed fine, allowing him to leave the tent and receive his score from the judges.

Disclaimer: All Characters are over the Age of 18

A/N:

I had a bunch of different ways I thought about writing the first task, but eventually settled on this. I’m still not entirely sure that this was the right way to go, as I wanted Harry to use some of his unique abilities from the Lands Between, but didn’t want him to show off everything he learned or seem too OP