Flame || F. WEASLEY

Chapter 12 - The First Task

It's the day of the first task.

I'm bundled against the cold in one of my thickest jumpers, a coat, and my blue and grey scarf. Mittens are stuffed in my coat pocket and Malein is even more bundled than I am. She already doesn't like the cold.

I've been avoiding Fred and George since the day before the champions were announced. Fred has tried to stop me on many occasions, but I ignore him. He dismissed me that day when they attempted to put their names in the Goblet. Divination wasn't known for its accuracy but I wasn't known for lying.

Everyone has taken to calling me a prophet.

At first, I hadn't minded it, more preoccupied with avoiding Fred and trying to figure out my vision. At my request, Trelawney has been helping me with trying to call forth another vision after class. We started with crystal-gazing again. Nothing had happened. So we moved on.

Nothing works.

The stadium built for the first task sits on top of one of the mountains surrounding Hogwarts. It's a pain to get to but offers an amazing view of Hogwarts. I am staring out at the countryside when I feel someone approach me. Malein had gone inside to save us good seats while I collected myself.

"You're notoriously hard to pin down, Williams," Fred grumbles. We stand so close our shoulders almost brush.

"Haven't you heard? My name isn't Williams anymore, it's Prophet." This bitterness in my voice surprises me. I suppose this attention is exactly what poor Potter has to go through every day of his life. I can't stand it.

"You're still Williams to me."

I frown. My heart thunders in my chest and it screams at me to look at him, to let him apologize. I steel myself and turn away, preparing to enter the arena stands. A strong hand on my wrist stops me.

I finally turn and find Fred looking at me. Our eyes meet and I can see all the words he's not saying swirling in the brown depths. His eyes almost look like honey as a ray of sunlight passes over his face. I take a moment to study his face.

There are high cheekbones and a sharp jaw, with his long red hair sweeping out from his face. Freckles dust his face and his lips are full. I've imagined myself kissing them many times before, much to my friends' amusement.

"I'm sorry." The words push out of his mouth in a rush.

I arch an eyebrow, almost an involuntary gesture.

"Fred Weasley? Apologizing?" Some of my usual snarkiness makes it way into my voice. The corner of his mouth quirks up at it. He still hasn't let go of my wrist. It reminds me of when he gripped my wrist in the room with the Goblet, when my blood leaked through my bandages.

"I shouldn't have dismissed you like that." He runs his free hand through his hair and there's a pink flush across his cheeks.

"It's fine."

"It's not. Let me make it up to you." Both of my eyebrows go up this time. "Meet me in the astronomy tower tomorrow night, at midnight."

"Okay."

He finally seems to realize he hasn't released my wrist. He drops it, the pink of his cheeks turning brighter. I tuck a stray piece of my hair behind my ear. There's no one around us, everyone is inside the arena now.

"We better get inside, all the good seats are probably taken," I say.

Fred nods and we walk side by side into the arena stands.

...

I'm not expecting the dragons.

When I find my seat next to Malein, dangerously close to the railing, I notice the large blue-grey dragon chained to a rock. A cannon erupts and Cedric appears from a cave, dressed in a uniform of Hufflepuff black and yellow.

The dragon shifts, revealing a clutch of pearly white eggs and a singular gold one in the middle. Cedric's fear is written over his face as he casts a spell, turning one of the surrounding rocks into a dog. An impressive transfiguration charm.

The dog distracts the dragon and draws its attention away from Cedric, who scrambles up to the nest of eggs. He manages to retrieve the golden egg just as the dragon turns its attention back to him. The cheers in the stands turn to screams as it lets loose a blast of fire.

Cedric falls back, an arm still wrapped around the egg while the other clutches his face. He manages to scramble back to the cave with his egg, hopefully with medical attention waiting nearby.

"Did you know it was dragons?" I ask Malein. Her eyes are still fixed on the silver dragon as someone with familiar red hair charms the dragon and leads it away. A new clutch of white and gold eggs is replaced and a bright green dragon is brought out.

Malein shakes her head a few seconds later, finally processing the question I asked.

The cannon sounds again. This time it's Fleur emerging from the tunnel, dressed in Beauxbatons blue. The dragon raises its head, almost bored with the whole encounter. Fleur's wand flares and she dances from rock to rock. The dragon's eyes never leave her form, eyelids drooping the closer she gets.

The stadium is holding its breath.

"She's using a sleeping enchantment," I whisper.

The dragon fully falls asleep. Its breathing is deep and even. Fleur steps over its long tail and plucks the golden egg from its nest. Nobody cheers, too afraid to wake the dragon that Fleur painstakingly enchanted.

It sucks in a deep breath and a rumbling noise comes from it, followed by a small plume of fire. That's all it takes to set Fleur's skirt aflame. The stadium takes a sharp intake of breath as Fleur bats at her skirt before putting it out with her wand. She walks back into the cave with her head held high.

"I want to be her someday," Malein says. I have to agree, Fleur is incredibly impressive.

The green dragon is quickly replaced yet again. A bright red and wiry dragon is brought out. Krum comes striding from the cave at the sound of the cannon. He automatically takes the offensive, using a conjunctivitis curse to blind the dragon. He nimbly dodges the thrashing dragon and snatches the golden egg before the dragon's tail comes down on the nest. A high-pitched keening sounds from the dragon as it realizes what it's done.

Everyone cheers as Krum rushes back into the cave, the fastest retrieval of the egg so far. Which leaves poor Harry Potter last.

The next dragon brought out is wicked-looking. Giant spikes the size of my arm line its spine all the from its head to its tail. It regards the crowd with contempt, pulling at the short length of chain that keeps it secured to the ground.

The cannon sounds and I gulp. Potter might just be murdered before my eyes by a dragon. All the students cheer, even if they're wearing one of those stupid 'Potter stinks' buttons. A few moments later, Harry stumbles out of the cave. In the split second that the dragon spots him, he dives to the side as it releases a long blast of fire.

Hermione's scream pierces the air as Harry dives from rock to rock, trying to avoid the gouts of flame.

"Your wand, Harry!" She's yelling. "Use your wand!"

His head whips toward me and glancing over my shoulder, I find Hermione a few rows behind me. The twins are behind her and Fred is wearing a ridiculous box for bets.

"Accio Firebolt!" Harry fires the spell into the air before avoiding the dragon once again.

This dragon is easily the most aggressive of the four. Sometimes I wonder at the terrible luck that follows the poor boy. Something catches my eye from the corner of my vision and I turn my head just enough to catch Harry's firebolt whizzing down into the arena. Harry huddles behind a boulder as the dragon releases a downpour of fire at him.

The dragon lets up and Harry doesn't hesitate. He's on his Firebolt and into the air in a heartbeat. But the dragon follows him, beating its great wings until the chain around its neck stops it from flying any higher. The dragon looks at it with disgust before wrenching its neck, freeing itself from the train.

Harry races away from the arena, a loose dragon on his heels.