"The brightest flame will defeat the deathly chill of seven Decembers."
Castor and Pollux Jones, transfer students from Ilvermorny, are now attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After the unexpected death of their mother, they move t...
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"I don't know if I can do this." Harry hesitated to exit the Champion's tent.
"Of course you can." Castor reassured him from beside him. "You're a better wizard than you think, Harry. You can do anything."
"I'm not you, Castor." Harry glanced at her nervously. "I'm not good at advanced spells and I don't really know much about defeating dragons."
"Hey!" Castor gripped his shoulders, turning him to face her. Mr. Filch was whispering for Harry to leave the tent. "Remember what we practiced. You can do this." Harry nodded at her nervously. "I'll be cheering for you."
"Who else would you cheer for?" Harry sassed her as he exited the tent. The stadium was cheering his name, all students watching him in anticipation of his turn.
The rocky landscape of the arena would make it difficult for him to maneuver around the dragon quickly on foot. He silently thanked Castor for the idea of using his broom, and for the constant days of practicing the summoning charm. He just hoped it would work when he needed it. As he looked around the stands, he could see Hermione, Ron, the Weasley twins, and Ginny all seated together, cheering him on. Just behind them but seated much higher up was Pollux and Professor Lupin, both of which were huddled together with their coats concealing an odd looking lump between them.
He could see the egg on the other side of the arena, glittering in the overcast light of the fogy day. Just as he made to run towards the egg, a large spiked tail smashed down beside him, and he narrowly avoided another whip of the dragon's tail, rolling deeper into the rocky landscape. The Hungarian Horntail was a menacing looking dragon, with a sharp spike pointing out of its head in every direction. It's curved, pointed beak-like mouth snapped in his direction, and the tail swayed back and forth behind him to warn the young wizard of the danger it possessed.
The Horntail opened its mouth, and Harry was already up and running away as he avoided the stream of fire headed his way. Harry scrambled up the rocks as he avoided the spiked tail again, and based on the gasps from the crowd, it had been another close call.
Castor, who was peaking out of the champion's tent, bit into her lip so hard she almost drew blood. She was wringing her hands together as she watched her young Gryffindor friend have just a few too many close calls. "Remember what we practiced, Harry." She willed him to hear her, even though she knew that he probably couldn't hear her if she yelled. Not with the boulders being smashed so close to his head.
The Hungarian Horntail whipped its tail, and Castor cursed loudly when she watched Harry being launch across the arena. Harry stood and ran to avoid another stream of fire from the dragon's mouth. He could hear Hermione yelling at him from her seat in the stands.
"Your wand, Harry! Your wand!"
"Accio Firebolt!" Harry waved his wand, hoping that the spell worked and running to avoid the dragon again.
