The Task of Doom

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"You're to go in here with the other champions," said Professor McGonagall, in a rather shaky sort of voice, "and wait for your turn, Potter. Mr. Bagman is in there… he'll be telling you the - the procedure… Good luck."

"Thanks," said Harry, in a flat, distant voice. She left us at the entrance of the tent. Harry and I went inside.

Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a how wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which I supposed was his idiotic way of showing nerves that didn't exist. Cedric was pacing up and down. I couldn't help but notice how adorable he looked when he was anxous... When Harry entered, Cedric gave him a small smile, which Harry returned.

I glanced between them and signed. Harry has sucked my Cedric into his little circle where everyone pampored him like the little helpless wizard he was.

I blinked. How could I think such a thing about my brother? We were in a life threatening situation and I was jealous that Harry was getting more sympathy... I was becoming pathetic.

"Harry! Good-o!" said Bagman happily, looking around at my pampored brother. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"

Yes, Harry, make yourself at home... I'll just sit here and feel like an unwanted guest.

I mentally slapped myself, trying to shake away such thoughts, but they kept on flooding in every movement someone made to acknowledge Harry's presence. I glanced around, no one but Cedric noticed me.

Cedric gestured me over to him and I smiled, taking his hand before standing next to him.

Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again. "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 us - "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!"

I glanced around. Cedric had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then started pacing around the tent again (Dragging me with him, but I willingly followed); he looked slightly green. Fleur Delacour and Krum hadn't reacted at all. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths; the thought made a small laugh escape my lips. They should have thought of the possibilities of getting injuries before they put their name in that stupid goblet...

And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking… I'm glad they're going to enjoy watching me die I thought sarcastically. And then – it seemed like about a second later to me - Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.

"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur Delacour.

She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon - a Welsh Green. It had the number two around its neck. And I knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that I had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.

Bagman held the bag out to Krum, passing right by me. My face turned red with anger.

"Ahem," I said loudly.

Bagman's eyes traveled reluctantly right by me. "Yes, ms Potter?"

"You said 'ladies first', I am a lady," I held out my hand.

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