Dark child

33

Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Elara supposed was his way of showing nerves. Harry was pacing up and down.
"Oh Miss.Riddle," said Bagman, looking around at her. "Come in, make yourself at home!"
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 them — "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!"

Elara glanced around. Harry had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then started pacing around the tent again; 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.

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... Despite her preoccupation, Elara couldn't help but feel enthusiastic as she heard outside noises. And then, 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. Elara gasped. They had to fight a dragon! Fleur however, showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation. Krum and Harry weren't looking shocked either, which meant she was the only one not knowing about the task beforehand.

Then Elara put her hand into the bag, and out came a blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number three tied around its neck. As Elara leveled the tiny model to her eyes, a sudden inspiration came to her about how to pass the dragon. The mini dragon belched fire in her hand.

Her suspicion about all other champions cheating to get information about the task beforehand was proved more strongly as Krum pulled out a scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number one around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Finally, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out a Hungarian Horntail, and the number four. It stretched its wings and bared its minuscule fangs. Elara pitied him. The worst dragon was Harry's.

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr.Krum, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now... Harry... could I have a quick word? Outside?"

"Er... yes," said Harry blankly, and he got up and went out of the tent with Bagman.
A couple of minutes later, a whistle had blown somewhere. Harry came back into the tent. At the same time, Krum got out of the tent, looking sick.

Seconds later, they heard the roar of the crowd, which meant Krum had entered the enclosure and was now face-to-face with the living counterpart of his model...

It was worse than Elara could ever have imagined, sitting there and listening. The crowd screamed... yelled... gasped like a single many-headed entity, as Krum did whatever he was doing to get past the Chinese Fireball. Harry was staring at the ground. Fleur had now taken to retracing Harry's steps, around and around the tent. And Bagman's commentary made everything much, much worse... Horrible pictures formed in Elara's mind as she heard: "Very daring!" and Elara heard the Chinese Fireball emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. "That's some nerve he's showing — and yes, he's got the egg!"
Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass; Krum had finished.