The Last Descendant || A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 17

I let your confusion keep me up at night   |   decode, Sabrina Carpenter.

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A few days after the photos were made, a sick article was published by Rita Skeeter of Harry.

Reading it, Aerea couldn't help but laugh. What kind of bullshit was this?

Even days after the article had been published, people still teased him about it. God, she was happy, Skeeter didn't interview her.

This coming Tuesday was the first task, and Aerea was scared as hell.

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It was midnight, and Harry was hiding under his invisibility cloak, following Hagrid and Madame Maxime so far around the perimeter of the forest that the school and lake weren't visible anymore.

He wanted to get away from the two of them when he heard men shouting, then an earsplitting roar...

Following Hagrid around a clump of trees, they came to a halt. Harry hurried alongside them - for a split second, he thought he was seeing bonfires, and men darting around them - and then his mouth fell open.

Dragons.

Four fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons in enclosures.

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; a gigantic black one, more lizard-like than the others, which was nearest to them.

"Keep back there, Hagrid!" A wizard yelled near the fence, straining on the chain he was holding. "They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I've seen this Horntail do forty! And don't even get me started on the Hebridean Black!"

"Is'n' it beautiful?" Hagrid said softly.

"It's no good!" Another wizard yelled. "Stunning spells on three!"

Harry saw each of the dragon keepers pull out their wands.

"Stupefy!" They shouted in union.

The dragon nearest to them fell to the ground slowly.

"Wan' a closer look?" Hagrid asked Madame Maxime excitedly. The two of them moved closer to the fence. The wizard who had earned them not to get any closer turned, and Harry realised it was Charlie Weasley.

"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 like you saw, they weren't happy, not happy at all -"

"What breeds you got here, Charlie?" Hagrid asked.

"This is a Hungarian Horntail," Charlie said, gesturing to the one nearest to them. "There's a Common Green Welsh over there, the smaller one - a Swedish Short-Snout, that blue-gray - a Chinese Fireball, that's the red."

"Aren't there supposed to be one dragon per champion?" Hagrid asked Charlie.

"I wasn't done," Charlie smiled, he pointed in the darkest corner, Harry barely saw it, but looking closely he saw another (what he thought) fully grown black dragon with red wings, eyes, and frills, who looked to be sleeping. "The Hebridean Black. Most vicious of them all. We weren't sure if we should've taken him, but Bagman said it was a great choice, so here he is."