The Girl Who Lived

The First Task

"We might have just the thing for you, although you'd have to be quick. And come up with an explanation as to why you'd have them." George smiled.
"Well, whatever it is, I can make it seem like I just thought of it and I can use the summoning spell so that no one also any questions," I state.
"In that case," Fred smirks, "here you go." He pulled out an object from behind his back. It was shaped like . . . Fireworks?
"We call them Wildfire Whiz-bangs. They're enchanted fireworks," George said.
"That explode when hit with a stunning spell..."
"And multiply by ten when hit with a vanishing spell." The twins finish.
"You two have really put a lot of thought into this. What would you ever do without each other?"
"Probably be depressed."
"Yes, Georgie. Let's hope that never happens. We wouldn't want a depressed George, would we Heather?" Fred said.
"Nope. That'd be awful. Who'd I prank with?"
We all laugh.
~*~*~
I barely slept that night. When I awoke on Monday morning, I seriously considered for the first time ever just running away from Hogwarts. But as I looked around the Great Hall at breakfast time, and thought about what leaving the castle would mean, I knew I couldn't do it. It was the only place I had ever been happy . . . well, I supposed I must have been happy with my parents too, but I couldn't remember that.
Somehow, the knowledge that I would rather be here and facing a dragon than back on Privet Drive with Dudley was good to know; it made me feel slightly calmer. I finished my bacon, and as me and Hermione got up, I saw Cedric Diggory leaving the Hufflepuff table.
Cedric still didn't know about the dragons . . . the only champion who didn't, if I was right in thinking that Maxime and Karkaroff would have told Fleur and Krum. . . .
"Hermione, I'll see you in the greenhouses," I said, coming to my decision as I watched Cedric leaving the Hall. "Go on, I'll catch you up."
"Heather, you'll be late, the bell's about to ring —"
"I'll catch you up, okay?"
By the time I reached the bottom of the marble staircase, Cedric was at the top. He was with a load of sixth-year friends. I didn't want to talk to Cedric in front of them; they were among those who had been quoting Rita Skeeter's article at me every time he went near them. I followed Cedric at a distance and saw that he was heading toward the Charms corridor. This gave me an idea. Pausing at a distance from them, I pulled out his wand, and took careful aim.
"Diffindo!"
Cedric's bag split. Parchment, quills, and books spilled out of it onto the floor. Several bottles of ink smashed.
"Don't bother," said Cedric in an exasperated voice as his friends bent down to help him. "Tell Flitwick I'm coming, go on. . . ."
This was exactly what I had been hoping for. I slipped his wand back into his robes, waited until Cedric's friends had disappeared into their classroom, and hurried up the corridor, which was now empty of everyone but myself and Cedric.
"Hi," said Cedric, picking up a copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration that was now splattered with ink. "My bag just split . . . brand-new and all . . ."
"Cedric," I said abruptly, "the first task is dragons."
"What?" asked Cedric, looking up.
"Dragons," I said, speaking quickly, in case Professor Flitwick came out to see where Cedric had got to. "They've got four, one for each of us, and we've got to get past them."
Cedric stared at me. I saw some of the panic I'd been feeling since Saturday night flickering in Cedric's gray eyes.
"Are you sure?" Cedric said in a hushed voice.
"Dead sure," i whispered. "I've seen them."
"But how did you find out? We're not supposed to know. . . ." "Never mind," I stated quickly — I knew Hagrid would be
in trouble if I told the truth. "But I'm not the only one who knows. Fleur and Krum will know by now — Maxime and Karkaroff both saw the dragons too."
Cedric straightened up, his arms full of inky quills, parchment, and books, his ripped bag dangling off one shoulder. He stared at me, and there was a puzzled, almost suspicious look in his eyes.
"Why are you telling me?" he asked.
I looked at him in disbelief. I was sure Cedric wouldn't have asked that if he had seen the dragons himself. I wouldn't have let my worst enemy face those monsters unprepared — well, perhaps Snape . . .
"It's just . . . fair, isn't it?" I said to Cedric. "We all know now . . . we're on an even footing, aren't we?"
Cedric was still looking at him in a slightly suspicious way when I heard a familiar clunking noise behind I He turned around and saw Mad-Eye Moody emerging from a nearby classroom.
"Come with me, Potter," he growled. "Diggory, off you go." I stared apprehensively at Moody. Had he overheard us?
"Er — Professor, I'm supposed to be in Herbology —"
"Never mind that, Potter. In my office, please. . . ."
I followed him, wondering what was going to happen to me now. What if Moody wanted to know how I'd found out about the dragons? Would Moody go to Dumbledore and tell on Hagrid, or just turn me into a ferret? Well, it might be easier to get past a dragon if I were a ferret, I thought dully, I'd be smaller, much less easy to see from a height of fifty feet . . .
I followed Moody into his office. Moody closed the door behind them and turned to look at me, his magical eye fixed upon me as well as the normal one.
"That was a very decent thing you just did, Potter," Moody said quietly.
I didn't know what to say; this wasn't the reaction I had expected at all.
"Sit down," said Moody, and I sat, looking around.
What appeared to be a mirror hung opposite of me on the wall, but it was not reflecting the room. Shadowy figures were moving around inside it, none of them clearly in focus.
"Like my Dark Detectors, do you?" said Moody, who was watching me closely.
"What's that?" I asked, pointing at the squiggly golden aerial.
"Secrecy Sensor. Vibrates when it detects concealment and lies . . . no use here, of course, too much interference — students in every direction lying about why they haven't done their homework. Been humming ever since I got here. I had to disable my Sneakoscope because it wouldn't stop whistling. It's extra-sensitive, picks up stuff about a mile around. Of course, it could be picking up more than kid stuff," he added in a growl.
"And what's the mirror for?"
"Oh that's my Foe-Glass. See them out there, skulking around? I'm not really in trouble until I see the whites of their eyes. That's when I open my trunk."
He let out a short, harsh laugh, and pointed to the large trunk under the window. It had seven keyholes in a row. I wondered what was in there, until Moody's next question brought me sharply back to earth.
"So . . . found out about the dragons, have you?"
I hesitated. I'd been afraid of this — but I hadn't told Cedric, and I certainly wasn't going to tell Moody, that Hagrid had broken the rules.
"It's all right," said Moody, sitting down and stretching out his wooden leg with a groan. "Cheating's a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and always has been."
Wait really?
"I didn't cheat," I said sharply. "It was — a sort of accident that I found out."
Moody grinned. "I wasn't accusing you, laddie. I've been telling Dumbledore from the start, he can be as high-minded as he likes, but you can bet old Karkaroff and Maxime won't be. They'll have told their champions everything they can. They want to win. They want to beat Dumbledore. They'd like to prove he's only human."
Moody gave another harsh laugh, and his magical eye swiveled around so fast it made me feel queasy to watch it.
"So . . . got any ideas how you're going to get past your dragon yet?" said Moody.
"No," I said quickly.
"Well, I'm not going to tell you," said Moody gruffly. "I don't show favoritism, me. I'm just going to give you some good, general advice. And the first bit is — play to your strengths."
I tried to concentrate. What was I best at? Well, that was easy, really —
"Pranking and logic-ing," I said dully, "and a fat lot of help —"
"That's right," said Moody, staring at him very hard, his magical eye barely moving at all. "You're a damn brilliant prankster from what I've heard."
"Yeah, but . . ." I stared at him. "How can I prank a dragon?" I tried to act oblivious.
"My second piece of general advice," said Moody loudly, interrupting me, "is to use a nice, simple spell that will enable you to get what you need."
~*~*~
"Mione! Mione, I need to know how to do a summoning spell properly by tomorrow. And a stunning and vanishing spell, just in case."
And so we practiced. We didn't have lunch, but headed for a free classroom, where I tried with all my might to make various objects fly across the room toward me. I was still having problems. The books and quills kept losing heart halfway across the room and dropping like stones to the floor.
"Concentrate, Heather, concentrate. . . ."
"What d'you think I'm trying to do?" I said angrily. "A great big dragon keeps popping up in my head for some reason. . . . Okay, try again. . . ."
I wanted to skip Divination to keep practicing, but Hermione refused point-blank to skive off Arithmancy, and there was no point in staying without her. I therefore had to endure over an hour of Professor Trelawney, who spent half the lesson telling everyone that the position of Mars with relation to Saturn at that moment meant that people born in July were in great danger of sudden, violent deaths.
I spent the rest of the lesson trying to attract small objects toward me under the table with his wand. I managed to make a fly zoom straight into my hand, though I wasn't entirely sure that was my prowess at Summoning Charms — perhaps the fly was just stupid.
I forced down some dinner after Divination, then returned to the empty classroom with Mione, using the Invisibility Cloak to avoid the teachers. We kept practicing until past midnight. We would have stayed longer, but Peeves turned up and, pretending to think that I wanted things thrown at me, started chucking chairs across the room. We left in a hurry before the noise attracted Filch, and went back to the Gryffindor common room, which was now mercifully empty.
At two o'clock in the morning, I stood near the fireplace, surrounded by heaps of objects: books, quills, several upturned chairs, an old set of Gobstones, and Neville's toad, Trevor. Only in the last hour had I really got the hang of the Summoning Charm, and the stunning spell. Vanishing was iffy.
"That's better, Heather, that's loads better," Hermione said, looking exhausted but very pleased.
"Well, now we know what to do next time I can't manage a spell," I said, throwing a rune dictionary back to Hermione, so I could try again, "threaten me with a dragon. Right . . ." I raised his wand once more. "Accio Dictionary!"
The heavy book soared out of Hermione's hand, flew across the room, and I caught it.
"Heather, I really think you've got it!" said Hermione delightedly.
"Just as long as it works tomorrow," I said. "The firework things are going to be much farther away than the stuff in here, it's going to be in the castle, and I'm going to be out there on the grounds. . . ."
"That doesn't matter," said Hermione firmly "Just as long as you're concentrating really, really hard on it, it'll come. Heather, we'd better get some sleep . . . you're going to need it."
"Okay." Then just to be sure I had my vanishing spell down, I dropped the dictionary.
I pointed my wand at it. "Evanesco!" And it disappeared.
~*~*~
I had been focusing so hard on learning the three charms that evening that some of my blind panic had left me. It returned in full measure, however, on the following morning. The atmosphere in the school was one of great tension and excitement. Lessons were to stop at midday, giving all the students time to get down to the dragons' enclosure — though of course, they didn't yet know what they would find there.
I felt oddly separate from everyone around me, whether they were wishing mw good luck or hissing "We'll have a box of tissues ready, Potter " as I passed.
Professor McGonagall was hurrying over to me in the Great Hall. Lots of people were watching.
"Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now. . . . You have to get ready for your first task."
"Okay," I said, standing up, his fork falling onto his plate with a clatter.
"Good luck, Heather," Hermione whispered. "You'll be fine!"
"Yeah," said Harry, "Good luck!"
I left the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall. She didn't seem herself either; in fact, she looked nearly as anxious as mione. As she walked him down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, she put her hand on my shoulder.
"Now, don't panic," she said, "just keep a cool head. . . . We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand. . . . The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you. . . . Are you all right?"
"Yes," I heard myself say. "Yes, I'm fine."
She was leading me toward the place where the dragons were, around the edge of the forest, but when we approached the clump of trees behind which the enclosure would be clearly visible, I saw that a tent had been erected, its entrance facing them, screening the dragons from view.
"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," I said, in a flat, distant voice. She left me at the entrance of the tent. I went inside.
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 Harry supposed was his way of showing nerves. Cedric was pacing up and down. When Harry entered, Cedric gave me a small smile, which I returned, feeling the muscles in my face working rather hard, as though they had forgotten how to do it.
"Heather! Good-o!" said Bagman happily, looking around at him. "Come in, 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!"
I glanced around. Cedric 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; that was certainly how I felt. But they, at least, had volunteered for this. . . .
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 felt as separate from the crowd as though they were a different species. 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 he had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.
The same held true for Krum. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number three around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.
Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number one tied around its neck.
Shit.
Knowing what was left, I put my hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number four. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.
"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. Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now . . . Heather . . . could I have a quick word? Outside?"
"Er . . . yes," I said blankly, and he got up and went out of the tent with Bagman, who walked me a short distance away, into the trees, and then turned to me with a fatherly expression on his face.
"Feeling all right, Heather? Anything I can get you?"
"What?" I said. "I — no, nothing."
"Got a plan?" said Bagman, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Because I don't mind sharing a few pointers, if you'd like them, you know. I mean," Bagman continued, lowering his voice still further, "you're the underdog here, Heather. . . . Anything I can do to help . . ."
"No," I sad so quickly I knew I had sounded rude, "no — I — I know what I'm going to do, thanks."
"Nobody would know, Heather," said Bagman, winking at him.
"No, I'm fine," I sighed, wondering why I kept telling people this, and wondering whether I had ever been less fine. "I've got a plan worked out, I —"
A whistle had blown somewhere.
"Good lord, I've got to run!" said Bagman in alarm, and he hurried off.
I walked back to the tent and saw Cedric emerging from it, greener than ever. I tried to wish him luck as he walked past, but all that came out of my mouth was a sort of hoarse grunt.
I went back inside to Fleur and Krum. Seconds later, they heard the roar of the crowd, which meant Cedric had entered the enclosure and was now face-to-face with the living counterpart of his model. . . .
It was worse than I could ever have imagined, sitting there and listening. The crowd screamed . . . yelled . . . gasped like a single many-headed entity, as Cedric did whatever he was doing to get past the Swedish Short-Snout. Krum was still staring at the ground. Fleur had now taken to retracing Cedric's steps, around and around the tent. And Bagman's commentary made everything much, much worse. . . . Horrible pictures formed in my mind as I heard: "Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow" . . . "He's taking risks, this one!" . . . "Clever move — pity it didn't work!"
And then, after about fifteen minutes, I heard the deafening roar that could mean only one thing: Cedric had gotten past his dragon and captured the golden egg.
"Very good indeed!" Bagman was shouting. "And now the marks from the judges!"
But he didn't shout out the marks; I supposed the judges were holding them up and showing them to the crowd.
"One down, three to go!" Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"
Fleur was trembling from head to foot; I felt more warmly toward her than I had done so far as she left the tent with her head held high and her hand clutching her wand. Krum and I were left alone, at opposite sides of the tent, avoiding each other's gaze.
The same process started again. . . . "Oh I'm not sure that was wise!" we could hear Bagman shouting gleefully. "Oh . . . nearly! Careful now . . . good lord, I thought she'd had it then!"
Ten minutes later, I heard the crowd erupt into applause once more. . . . Fleur must have been successful too. A pause, while Fleur's marks were being shown . . . more clapping . . . then, for the third time, the whistle.
"And here comes Mr. Krum!" cried Bagman, and Krum slouched out, leaving me quite alone.
I felt much more aware of his body than usual; very aware of the way my heart was pumping fast, and my fingers tingling with fear . . . yet at the same time, I seemed to be outside himself, seeing the walls of the tent, and hearing the crowd, as though from far away. . . .
"Very daring!" Bagman was yelling, and Harry heard the Chi- nese 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 — it would be my turn any moment.
I stood up, noticing dimly that his legs seemed to be made of marshmallow. I waited. And then I heard the whistle blow. I walked out through the entrance of the tent, the panic rising into a crescendo inside me. And now I was walking past the trees, through a gap in the enclosure fence.
I saw everything in front of him as though it was a very highly colored dream. There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at him from stands that had been magicked there since he'd last stood on this spot. And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon me, a monstrous, scaly, black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, I didn't know or care. It was time to do what I had to do . . . to focus my mind, entirely and absolutely, upon the thing that was my only chance. . . .
I raised his wand.
"Accio Wildfire Whiz-bangs!" I shouted.
I waited, every fiber of me hoping, praying. . . . If it hadn't worked . . . if it wasn't coming . . . I seemed to be looking at everything around him through some sort of shimmering, trans- parent barrier, like a heat haze, which made the enclosure and the hundreds of faces around him swim strangely. . . .
And then I heard it, speeding through the air behind me; I turned and saw the twins' fireworks hurtling toward me around the edge of the woods, soaring into the enclosure, and stopping dead in midair beside him, waiting for me to grab them. The crowd was making even more noise. . . . Bagman was shouting something . . . but my ears were not working properly anymore . . . listening wasn't important. . . .
I threw them at the dragon.
"Stupefy!"I yelled as I pointed my wand at the fireworks.
A loud, deafening explosion occurred. I ran around the dragon as a pointed once again the the fireworks and yelled, "Evanesco!"
The explosion got bigger and louder.
The crowd was screaming. I can swear I hear Fred and George yelling the most. I charged past the dragon and grab the egg.
"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Ms. Potter!"
I raised the egg over my head, scanning the crowds.
Then, I found them. Fred and George. They both smiled at me and fish bumped each other.
I saw the dragon keepers rushing forward to subdue the Horntail, and, over at the entrance to the enclosure, Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Hagrid hurrying to meet me, all of them waving me toward them, their smiles evident even from this distance. I had got through the first task, I had survived. . . .
"That was excellent, Potter!" cried Professor McGonagall as I reached them — which from her was extravagant praise. "Yeh did it, Heather!" said Hagrid hoarsely. "Yeh did it! An' agains' the Horntail an' all, an' yeh know Charlie said that was the wors' —"
"Thanks, Hagrid," I said loudly, so that Hagrid wouldn't blunder on and reveal that he had shown me the dragons beforehand.
Professor Moody looked very pleased too; his magical eye was dancing in its socket.
"Nice and easy does the trick, Potter," he growled.
I was taken to a tent to check for any injuries while I awaited my scores.
I didn't want to sit still: I was too full of adrenaline. I got to my feet, wanting to see what was going on outside, but be- fore he'd reached the mouth of the tent, three people had come darting inside — Hermione, followed closely by Ron and Harry.
"Heather, you were brilliant!" Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. "You were amazing! You really were!"
"Who would've thought to prank the thing? Honestly Heather!" Harry said.
But I was looking at Ron, who was very white and staring at me as though I were a ghost.
"Heather," he said, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that goblet — I — I reckon they're trying to do you in!"
It was as though the last few weeks had never happened — as though I were meeting Ron for the first time, right after I'd been made champion.
"Caught on, have you?" I said coldly. "Took you long enough."
Harry stood nervously between them, looking from one to the other. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly. I knew Ron was about to apologize and suddenly I found I didn't need to hear it.
"It's okay," I said, before Ron could get the words out. "Forget it." "No," said Ron, "I shouldn't've —"
"Forget it," I said.
Ron grinned nervously at him, and I grinned back. Hermione burst into tears.
"There's nothing to cry about!" I told her, bewildered. "You two are so stupid!" she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before either of us could stop her, she had given both of them a hug and dashed away, now positively howling. Harry chased after her.
"Barking mad," said Ron, shaking his head. "Heather, c'mon, they'll be putting up your scores. . . ."
Picking up the golden egg, feeling more elated than I would have believed possible an hour ago, I ducked out of the tent, Ron by his side, talking fast.
"You were the best, you know, no competition. Cedric did this weird thing where he Transfigured a rock on the ground . . . turned it into a dog . . . he was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of him. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because he did get the egg, but he got burned as well — the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have him than the Labrador; he only just got away. And that Fleur girl tried this sort of charm, I think she was trying to put it into a trance — well, that kind of worked too, it went all sleepy, but then it snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her skirt caught fire — she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand. And Krum — you won't believe this, but he didn't even think of flying! He was probably the best after you, though. Hit it with some sort of spell right in the eye. Only thing is, it went tram- pling around in agony and squashed half the real eggs — they took marks off for that, he wasn't supposed to do any damage to them."
Ron drew breath as he and Harry reached the edge of the enclo- sure. Now that the Horntail had been taken away, Harry could see where the five judges were sitting — right at the other end, in raised seats draped in gold.
"It's marks out of ten from each one," Ron said, and I saw the first judge — Madame Maxime — raise her wand in the air. What looked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure eight.
"Not bad!" said Ron as the crowd applauded. Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air.
"Looking good!" Ron yelled, thumping me on the back. Next, Dumbledore. He too put up a nine. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.
Ludo Bagman — ten.