That morning, Harry woke up feeling relaxed. After freshening up and slipping into his robes, he made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.
In stark contrast to his calm demeanor, the atmosphere in the castle was buzzing with tension and excitement.
As he joined the Gryffindor table, Hermione had already been there. Parvati and Lavender were with her too, not an uncommon sight in recent days.
Since the first time he had spent time with the two of them in the library, they had joined him and Hermione more often, becoming part of their small group.
This didn't go unnoticed by some other people, like Ronald, who had cast dark looks at them. But so far he had done nothing yet. Harry mostly ignored him.
"How are you, Harry?" Lavender asked, her tone laced with concern.
"Worried about me? Don't be," Harry replied confidently, a small, reassuring smile on his face. "I'm well prepared."
To an outsider, his confidence might have come across as arrogance—especially considering he was about to face a dragon. But the truth was simple: Harry wasn't cocky. He was just overleveled.
While everyone else was in their morning classes, Harry spent his time at the Great Lake. Instead of any last-minute preparations or anything, he would rather choose to play around with his Nen.
Since absorbing Ddraig's soul and becoming a devil, his Nen talent and capacity went over the top. It had changed so hard that he had to retrain control over most of his more precise abilities.
Once he had adjusted, using and mastering Nen had become far, far easier. Harry enjoys investing his free time into some of the smaller, more irrelevant aspects of Nen. Like Pip-Play.
A simple Nen-based game where the player employs his Nen to create a 'Pip' out of their aura on their hand and moves it around. Better players can do more.
Before his transformation, Harry only could create a few round Pips and move them over his hand, some even in different directions.
Now, after practicing the whole morning, he could cover his hands with Pips in a multitude of shapes, part of them even animated while moving them each in a different direction.
His abilities before and after his transformation to a devil are in two completely different worlds.
At lunch, Professor McGonagall took him from the Great Hall.
"Good luck, Harry!" Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati whispered as he followed his Head of House.
Judging by the expression on Professor McGonagall's face, she was really worried. It doesn't seem to be fake; she seems to really care about his well-being.
They walked down the stone steps as she put a hand on his shoulder. "Now, don't panic," she said. "Just keep a cool head. … We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand. The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you. … Are you all right?"
"While I wouldn't be too sure about the last part, I am ready to face my Dragon. Professor, I killed a Basilisk with a sword before. I will be able to handle it." He replied with a grin, making her eyes widen.
"You already know? Did someone tell you?"
"Nope, I kept my eyes open. Hiding four dragons on the ground is not easy. Someone would notice them breathing fire in the middle of the night." Harry answered half-truthfully; while Hagrid had wanted to tell him, he had already known.
"If you are confident and prepared, that's the best I can hope for." They soon reached a tent at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, about where the dragons had been located. "You're to go in here with the other champions and wait for your turn, Potter. Mr. Bagman is in there… he'll be telling you the—the procedure. … Good luck."
"Thanks, Professor!" Harry nodded as he passed through the entrance of the tent.
Fleur Delacour sat in a corner on a low wooden stool, her usual composure nowhere to be seen.
Her face was pale, her skin clammy, and her elegant demeanor replaced by visible unease. Viktor Krum, on the other hand, looked even surlier than usual—a change Harry supposed was his own way of showing nerves.
Cedric was pacing up and down, his nervousness clearly on his face.
"Hey, are you prepared for your Dragon?" Harry greeted them with a smile. All three looked at him.
Fleur and Victor were either astonished that he would just admit he already knew the task or by his relaxed attitude.
The most extreme reaction came from Cedric, all color from his face vanished as he stuttered, "D-d-dragon?"
Harry froze too.
Right, he had originally told Cedric about the dragons. Being the only Champion not helped by someone, and Harry had totally forgotten about him.
He will be fine. Cedric himself signed up for this, aware that he could die.
The boy is an adult in the Wizarding World and made the decision to join the tournament himself; now he has to live with the consequences.
At least Harry reasoned so with himself. Maybe he was a tad bit bitter that the Hufflepuff pretty boy got the Girl in the Future. Even after his death, he would ruin Harry's chance for a relationship with Cho Chang, because she couldn't get over the death.
Was it petty? Maybe. But Harry was saving his life. Failing the tournament meant he wouldn't die at Voldemort's hands.
"Harry! You already know?" Bagman asked, a bit baffled.
"Oh, hey Mr. Bagman! Of course any competent Champion would start by gathering intelligence about the task. How else would you prepare for it? You can't just prepare a spell for every eventuality; there isn't enough time. I did it with my own abilities, meaning it's a legit move."
"Right, right you are." Bagman nodded enthusiastically after overcoming his initial confusion.
Of course he wouldn't hinder Harry, since he bet a considerable amount of money on him to get free from his debts with the Goblins.
"Well, now we're all here—time to fill you in!" said Bagman 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!"
"Wait, we don't have to kill them?"
The four other people in the tent blinked at him in shock. "Vous planned to kill your dragon?" Fleur asked, her accented voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and curiosity.
"Yeah? Why not?"
"Eh, Mr. Potter, there is no need to kill the dragons. In fact, the ministry would probably prefer if you wouldn't do so. Saves a lot of paperwork." Bagman said a bit nervously.
"Oh man. I even prepared a runic spell to blow up the whole arena…" Harry complained.
"Please don't blow up the Arena."
Now all four of them were staring at Harry as if he was mad. Yes, this is fun.
After pretending to reluctantly agree with them, Bagman began to open the purple bag so they could pull out their dragons.
Fleur got the Welsh Green, Cedric the Swedish Short-Snout, and Krum the Chinese Fireball.
"Sucks to be you guys. I got the most fun one. The Hungarian Horntail!" Harry said with a bright grin as he showed off the small model that had remained in the purple sack, before warning Krum, "Don't even think about it! This one is mine, and I won't exchange it!"
"Okay." Victor Krum replied confused towards Harry.
"No, changes please!" Bagman sighed before telling them the order.
Cedric first, followed by Fleur, then Krum, and lastly Harry. He quite hurried out of the tent once he had explained everything, with a last strange look towards Harry.
"Well, that's that. Good luck to each of you!" Harry said towards the other Champions as Bagman had left, who just nodded at him as they inched away from him.
Cedric, still looking pale, had now sweat on his forehead.
Once a whistle resounded from the arena, the Hufflepuff left the tent with shaky legs.
Well, whatever happened in there wasn't good. At first the crowd cheered loudly for the Hogwarts Champion.
But after a few minutes, the cheers changed to cries of fear and worry. It didn't sound as if Cedric's last-minute plan had worked. But Harry could still feel his presence, so he at least didn't die.
And the sounds from the Arena didn't help the nerves of the other two Champions, who now were clearly far more nervous than before.
"Huh, he didn't know about the Dragons." Harry stated loudly towards the other two Champions.
"Did your 'Eadmaster not tell you about this?" Fleur asked, her melodic accent adding a touch of incredulity to her words.
"Of course not! That would be cheating!" Harry replied, pretending to be offended.
Before Fleur could reply to anything, the second whistle sounded, and it was her turn.
Based on the sounds from the Arena, the task for Fleur and Krum went similarly to the original version in the story. Both of them having gotten their eggs in the end.
With the last whistle sound, it was now Harry's turn. Only with his wand in his hand, he stepped through the tent entrance into the enclosure. Past some trees, finally into the arena.
( End of Chapter )
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