Chance Of Happiness

Chapter 4- First Task

Previously:-

Draco comes with his batches, a potion lesson and bits of wand weighing and core revelation. A certain beetle slandering Dumbledore and Ministry.  Magical Oath. Letter from our dear dogfather. And, yeah how can we forget- Dragons!

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Four fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons were rearing onto their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood, roaring and snorting — torrents of fire were shooting into the dark sky from their open, fanged mouths, fifty feet above the ground on their outstretched necks. There was a silvery-blue one with long, pointed horns, snapping and snarling at the wizards on the ground; a smooth-scaled green one, which was writhing and stamping with all its might; a red one with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face, which was shooting mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air; and a gigantic black one, more lizard-like than the others, which was nearest to them. At least thirty wizards, seven or eight to each dragon, were attempting to control them, pulling on the chains connected to heavy leather straps around their necks and legs.

"Wan' a closer look?" Hagrid asked Madame Maxime excitedly. The pair of them moved right up to the fence, and Harry followed. The wizard who had warned Hagrid not to come any closer turned, and Harry realized who it was: Charlie Weasley. Harry doesn't know what to feel. Charlie was nice to him in this summer. Was that also part of their acting? Can he trust other Weasleys?

"All right, Hagrid?" he panted, coming over to talk. "They should be okay now — we put them out with a Sleeping Draught on the way here, thought it might be better for them to wake up in the dark and the quiet — but, as you saw, they weren't happy, not happy at all —"

"What breeds you got here, Charlie?" said Hagrid, gazing at the closest dragon, the black one, with something close to reverence. Its eyes were still just open. Harry could see a strip of gleaming yellow beneath its wrinkled black eyelid.

"This is a Hungarian Horntail," said Charlie. "There's a Common Welsh Green over there, the smaller one — a Swedish ShortSnout, that blue-gray — and a Chinese Fireball, that's the red." Charlie looked around; Madame Maxime was strolling away around the edge of the enclosure, gazing at the stunned dragons.

"I didn't know you were bringing her, Hagrid," Charlie said, frowning. "The champions aren't supposed to know what's coming and that's the only reason why I haven't told Harry— she's bound to tell her student, isn't she?" Maybe Harry can trust him. After spending a few more minutes and gathering information finding Hungarian Horntail is the most dangerous, he realized his meeting with Sirius.

Harry had run across Igor Karkaroff, so there was no doubt that both Krum and Delacour would know about the dragons as well by morning.

By the looks of it, the only champion who would be facing the unknown on Tuesday was Cedric.

Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and threw himself into an armchair in front of the fire in the common room. The room was in semidarkness; the flames were the only source of light. Nearby, on a table, the Support Cedric Diggory! badges the Creeveys had been trying to improve were glinting in the firelight. They now read POTTER REALLY STINKS. Harry looked back into the flames and jumped.

Sirius's head was sitting in the fire. If Harry hadn't seen Mr. Diggory do exactly this back in the Weasleys' kitchen, it would have scared him out of his wits. Instead, his face breaking into the first smile he had worn for days, he scrambled out of his chair, crouched down by the hearth, and said, "Sirius — how're you doing?"