[Theseus' POV]
He was in such a state of apprehension. I don't know how to describe it. It was as if fear was reincarnated as one of the seven deadly sins. As he came through the door, shaken and muddied, I placed a hand at his shoulder, only to be returned with a scowl.
"What's wrong?" I asked, "You did it!"
"What's better unknown is better unknown." he replied, sitting down on a nearby chair and burying his face in his hands. As much as I wanted to worry, I couldn't. I mean, he had Amelia, but I also had my own problems. My own mission. To be the one who wins it all, in true 'Survivor' fashion. Outwit. Outplay. Outlast.
The fans were squealing even before I hurried on stage. They did this with the others, but I for one had never seen such irrational behaviour. It was as if they all loved me, just for making an appearance. I can understand Amelia's lust for this now, because God, it's good! Transforming emotionally in the blink of an eye is difficult to control. It's lucky that my brother is a constant in my life. So is Leta. They're both up in the crowd somewhere, watching and waiting...
Focusing my attention on the dragon and its enormous size, green and black hybrid skin and lethal claws, I waited for the signal to launch into attack, exactly what I'll not be doing. Methodical approaches are my jam, as opposed to impulsive, spur of the moment thinking.
"Good luck to you." The Headmaster boomed, and that was all I needed to get started.
Again, a difference between my fellow competition, I took it upon myself to walk with caution, although the Common Welsh Green seemed harmless. It hadn't moved an inch since my arrival, but as soon as I veered towards the egg, it growled and advanced. The dragon's pride and duty relied on protecting that egg as if it were their own, or so Dumbledore briefed us before the challenge. I viewed the dragon's wings flutter with a sense of daintiness, and it took to the skies. This proved to be an expected move to the audience, because not a single person gasped. Time was ticking, my options were running out and all of a sudden the panic rushed in.
"This is a dragon, not a garden gnome!" I exclaimed in my mind. At that moment, the Green bobbed its head and snorted, claws glittering in the harsh heat. It charged forward at an unfathomable pace and scratched my left leg, blood oozing down like a waterfall. A scratch doesn't sound painful, but this was so agonising that it made me dizzy. Too bad the dragon knew I was left-legged.
Vision now impaired and leg stinging, I limped towards the crater where the egg laid, since the creature was distracted with the scent of my blood that was pooled on the floor. It was quick to draw its concentration back, although I could see the blood that had come from me had stained, or rather, coated its fangs, meaning that it was tempted. In all the racing, recovery and focus on the creature in front of me, the previous teachings from my human friends had lost meaning. What had I been taught before? It was all a blur. I let my mind rest for a few seconds. The memories returned. Great! The only inconvenience was that they came back in pieces.
"Facts about dragons. Go!"
"Can't…"
It was pleasing to know that my brain was working and recalling, but I couldn't rest with only this information in mind. I had to conduct a rapid, thorough search through the infinite wormhole of information, memories, mistakes and drama…
"Seemingly ferocious."
"Actual facts!"
"Common Welsh Green."
"Distinctive… comparison to other species…"
"Go-to!"
"Go get 'em!"
The patches of the past provided me with little insight, but I could understand that the role of 'distinctive quality' as Newt calls it, was in play somehow. What was operational is now malfunctioning, cracking and succumbing to pressure like a metamorphic rock. The dragon had wounded me more whilst I was processing my thoughts, but it didn't matter now. It was already done. My decision was just to tough it out, as I edged closer to victory. To glory. To hope. To freedom. How spur of the moment of me, but stupid thinking is valid in dire circumstances.
"He finally acquires it!" Is the next thing I hear. The crowd goes wild. I barely feel my grasp on the egg, but grabbing it in some form signified the end of the apocalypse. I was meant to stand with pride and beam with elation, soaking in all the warmth. I did otherwise. I stomped off with a frown, saluting to the fans, bloodied, torn, ruined and conflicted. My head was stirring with thoughts, then pounding with anger. Just out of sight of the audience, everything faded from view. I realised that it wasn't just a dream, these combined irritable emotions. It was all a result of the so-called fame and fortune of the Triwizard Tournament. The true climax, unbeknownst to practically all. I collided face first onto the earth.