Wow, It’s Actually Dragons

Hagrid was acting very strange tonight.

Very strange indeed.

Normally, he was disheveled and carefree, dressed in his oversized fur coats with his hair and beard resembling a tangled mess. He usually smelled of magical creature dung, and lately, there was an additional scent of Blast-Ended Skrewts clinging to him. But tonight was different.

His hair and beard were neatly combed, and he wore a zebra-striped suit adorned with a bright rose pinned to his chest. He even smelled strongly of cologne, which made Ron sneeze twice in a row.

"Follow me," Hagrid said, trying to slow his speech and sound more refined. "And don't make a sound."

"Are you planning a romantic rendezvous with Madame Maxime?" Harry asked casually.

Hagrid froze, turning to look at Harry in panic. His left foot tripped over his right, and he nearly tumbled down the steps.

Hermione quickly flicked her wand, casting a Levitation Charm to keep him upright.

Hagrid caught his balance and clutched his chest in relief. "Oh, thank you! I thought all the effort I put into tidying up this afternoon was going to go to waste."

"I'm not going on a date," he added, blushing. "I just thought Madame Maxime might enjoy seeing these creatures too."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and said pointedly, "Helping the Beauxbatons champion learn about the first task, are we?"

Ron nodded. "Exactly."

"Hey now, Madame Maxime is one of the judges," Hagrid defended her.

Harry spoke in a calm tone, "But you did say earlier that every school's professors do their best to help their champions."

Hagrid froze, frowning as he hesitated.

It was true—this was supposed to be a competition between Hogwarts and Beauxbatons. Was what he was doing essentially betraying Harry?

Harry lightly patted Hagrid's arm and said reassuringly, "We were only joking, Professor Hagrid. Don't you trust your best student? Just being in the tournament is already an unfair advantage for me. If the others don't even know the first task, that would be too cruel, wouldn't it?"

Hagrid let out a long breath. "You're sure, Harry? Really?"

"Of course," Harry replied with a nod. Then, remembering he was under the invisibility cloak, he gave Hagrid another light push. "Go ahead. It's not every day you meet someone as well-matched for you as Madame Maxime."

Hagrid scratched his head bashfully. "You really think we're well-matched?"

Hermione muttered under her breath, her tone icy, "Harry, I still find it hard to believe he's the magical creature expert you've described."

"I find it hard to believe too," Harry admitted, "but the facts are undeniable."

Hermione sighed. "Even Ron seems more like a magical creature expert than Hagrid."

Ron, the innocent bystander, looked completely bewildered.

What did he do wrong? He was only fourteen!

They followed Hagrid as he knocked on the door to the Beauxbatons carriage. When Madame Maxime stepped out, Hagrid visibly stiffened.

Though Hagrid was completely unaware of his status in the magical world, he was visibly nervous and awkward around Madame Maxime—more so than when he faced Dumbledore after a mishap.

He tried to act casual, taking her on a long moonlit stroll around the Forbidden Forest. They walked so far that the lake and castle were no longer visible.

Harry's gaze shifted to the distance, where he sensed three incredibly powerful and fiery presences, along with several wizards and witches. The wind carried faint sounds to his ears—rushing air, roaring flames, and angry growls.

"We're here," Hagrid finally announced, pointing ahead after they rounded a grove of trees.

Madame Maxime's eyes widened as she took in the sight.

Ron nearly gasped aloud.

Dragons!

Three dragons were confined in a massive wooden enclosure. Thick iron chains bound their necks, wings, and limbs, but the dragons were still restless. They snapped at the wizards outside the enclosure, occasionally spewing jets of flame to force them back.

Hagrid went to speak with the wizards gathered near the enclosure.

Among them was Charlie Weasley, who stood out as the most capable, staying closest to the dragons while maintaining his spellwork to keep them subdued. However, even Charlie's magic seemed to strain against the dragons' strength.

Harry studied the dragons carefully.

A Chinese Fireball, a Swedish Short-Snout, and a Common Welsh Green.

He felt a pang of disappointment. These dragons were among the more temperate breeds.

The Chinese Fireball, with its red scales and golden fringe, was known to be one of the few dragon species willing to share territory with its kin. The Welsh Green, a peaceful herbivore by dragon standards, rarely attacked humans and usually preyed on sheep.

The Swedish Short-Snout was the most dangerous of the three. Its sleek silver-blue scales shimmered under the moonlight, and its flame—a brilliant blue—could incinerate stone and bone in an instant.

Hagrid was utterly captivated by the dragons.

It seemed he had completely forgotten about Harry, Ron, Hermione, and even Madame Maxime, who was now being somewhat ignored.

After watching for a while, Harry tugged Ron and Hermione's hands, signaling it was time to leave. They slipped away unnoticed.

On their way back, they bumped into Karkaroff sneaking toward the Forbidden Forest. He hadn't even bothered with a Disillusionment Charm and was openly heading in the direction of the dragons. It was clear that no one intended to follow the rules Ludo Bagman had set. Everyone was covertly gathering intel.

When they returned to the common room, Ron's excitement was still palpable. He paced in front of the fireplace.

"Harry, did you see that? Dragons! Real dragons!"

"And Charlie said your first task is to face the dragons and retrieve a treasure from their nests!"

"We heard," Hermione said coolly.

Ron frowned. "But how do you deal with dragons? They're some of the most dangerous creatures alive. Let me think—Conjunctivitis Curses? That's supposed to be one of the best spells against them—"

He stopped mid-sentence as Harry silently drew the Basilisk Bone Sword from the Sorting Hat and placed it on the table.

Then, with a serious expression, Harry pointed both hands at the sword.

Ron's words faltered.

"Oh… right. I guess it's not a problem for you," Ron muttered, sitting down sheepishly. "You've already killed a basilisk, after all."

"We should still prepare," Hermione said, ticking items off on her fingers. "Fireproof potions are a must."

Harry pulled out two dark vials from the Sorting Hat.

"Healing potions?" Hermione asked.

Harry placed two bright red vials on the table.

Hermione nodded. "Anything else?"

"Runes," Harry said, pulling off his robes to reveal the Basilisk-hide armor underneath. "I'll inscribe some fireproof runes onto the armor."

"And weapons."

He unsheathed the Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat. "The Basilisk Bone Sword is venomous, but it might damage the dragon materials. I'll use this instead."

He then added, "I'll also prepare new sword oil."

The oil he currently used was basic—made from powdered ergot seeds and rendered dog fat.

"And potions," Harry continued. The Animagus ritual was still ongoing, and he couldn't risk pausing it by summoning rain with a weather spell.

Snape and Harry had made significant progress in their research, and the potion was almost complete.

"I'll need to skip other detentions and focus on Snape's," Harry concluded.

The days leading up to the first task flew by.

While Harry was often nowhere to be found, even skipping Divination and History of Magic, Fleur was no longer wandering the castle with her "hanger-on."

Late nights spent in Snape's office finally yielded results. The dragon oil Snape concocted—using powdered unicorn horn, basilisk stomach acid, and silver—allowed blades to slice through dragonhide with ease.

On the day of the first task, McGonagall arrived at lunch to summon Harry from the Great Hall.

All eyes followed as he left the castle with her.

They arrived at the same clearing Hagrid had brought them to earlier, but it had been transformed. The wooden enclosure was now a massive arena with two entrances.

Students crowded into one entrance, jostling for the best seats.

The other entrance led to a large tent, where Ludo Bagman stood waiting.

"Harry! Professor McGonagall! Over here!" Bagman waved enthusiastically.

Inside the tent, Fleur and Krum were already there—Fleur sat anxiously on a bench, while Krum paced restlessly.

"Now that everyone's here," Bagman began with a clap of his hands, "let me explain the first task."

He pulled a purple drawstring bag from his robes and opened it.

"Each of you will draw a model representing the creature you'll face."

"Your goal is to retrieve a golden egg from the creature's nest."

He paused, looking at Fleur.

"Ladies fir—"

"I'll go first," Harry interrupted, stepping forward.

Bagman blinked in surprise but said nothing as Harry reached into the bag.

With a quick glance inside, Harry located his target and pulled it out.

In his hand was a silver-blue model of a Swedish Short-Snout.

Fleur and Krum both visibly relaxed, relieved the most dangerous dragon was no longer an option.

Harry glanced at them, then at Bagman, who looked startled. Remembering that the champions weren't supposed to know the task beforehand, Harry feigned surprise and said flatly, "Wow, it's actually dragons."

Fleur and Krum blinked in confusion, then followed suit with exaggerated exclamations of shock.

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Powerstones?

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