"I'm Cedric," Cedric said, holding out a hand. "To my friends, at least."
Krum eyed him for a minute, then shook it firmly. "Then I am Viktor, to all of you."
"So we're doing this, then?" Harry confirmed. "Together? Fuck what the judges say about competition?" "Zey broke ze rules by making you compete," Fleur agreed, determination in her eyes. "We can break ze rules by 'elping each uzzer survive eet."
"That's settled, then," Cedric said, looking relieved. "We should all get back, I'm sure there's lots of celebrating to be done. But… meet in a week or so to see how everyone's doing on the egg?"
They agreed and parted ways, Harry and Cedric walking up to the castle together.
"That could've gone poorly," commented. Cedric shrugged.
Harry
"They're reasonable people, and I don't think any of us expected the tasks to be quite that serious. Not when they said they'd changed things to try and lower the death toll. Any one of us could've been fried to a crisp today. It's like Fleur said; they want us to play by the rules, but we haven't been since your name came out of the Goblet. If we're all helping each other, we're all on the same level; if I win, I'd much rather I did so fairly, and made friends out of the whole thing." He paused, realising how that sounded. "Merlin, I'm such a Hufflepuff."
Harry laughed. "Yeah, but it's alright. We can't all be reckless Gryffindors." He winked, starting up the stairs. "Have a good night, Cedric."
.-.
As expected, a party was raging in Gryffindor Tower. Harry made a good effort to get in the spirit of it, but after the adrenaline rush of flying against a dragon, he mostly just wanted to sleep.
"That was amazing!" the twins exclaimed, letting him down off their shoulders after a victory lap of the common room. "So wicked!"
"It really was brilliant, Harry," Neville agreed, beaming. Harry grinned.
"I was pretty good, wasn't I?"
"No need to start bragging about it." Ron's venomous voice deflated Harry's happy bubble, and the dark-haired boy glared. "No one invited you to this party, Ron," he bit out. Harry's success just seemed to have affirmed the redhead's views that he was a glory-hunter.
"Go away, Ronnikins," Fred urged, smiling viciously at his brother. "Or you'll see what some of our untested sweets can do." Having already seen several people turn into canaries and other animals, Ron gulped, slinking away into the crowd. Harry caught sight of Hermione crossing the common room to talk to him, but ignored it. If she still wanted to be friends with Ron, that was her choice.
"So what's in the egg, Harry?" George asked, taking the hefty golden egg from his hands. "The clue for the second task, apparently." Harry took the egg back, running his fingers over it.
"Open it!" several people in the crowd urged, including Neville. Harry grinned. Digging his nails into the groove, he wrenched it open.
…And immediately shut it again. As soon as the egg was open, an awful screeching wail pierced the room, making several people cover their ears. "What the fuck was that?" Fred muttered, wincing.
"No idea," Harry replied, ringing. "But it can't be good."
ears
still
How the hell was that supposed to be a clue? The morning after, Harry forgot for a minute that the task was already over. He woke up entirely convinced that the task was that morning, and he'd really just dreamed facing the dragon the first time.
Then reality set in, and he slumped against his pillows in a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. He'd already done it. He didn't have to do it again. He never had to look at another dragon in his life if he didn't want to.
The castle was abuzz with chatter when he went down to breakfast, though for the first time since Halloween people were looking at him with amazement rather than annoyance. His little flying stunt had been the most visually impressive, according to just about everyone in Gryffindor Tower — Harry thought they were biased, but seeing a group of second year Slytherins staring at him and then break into hushed whispers and bright grins, maybe they weren't.
Either way, it was over. And now he was back to classes like nothing had happened.
Neville was checking on some sort of extra-credit Herbology project right after breakfast, so Harry walked up to Charms alone. At least, he tried; halfway there, he was yanked into a narrow passage behind a tapestry. "What—" He relaxed when he saw pale blond hair. "Draco, what the hell? Anyone could have seen that!" "You reckless, idiotic, foolhardy disaster of a wizard," Draco hissed, grey eyes burning, fist still clenched in the front of Harry's robe. "Do you have any idea how many years it took off my life watching you fly around with that bloody dragon like it was a game of tag? You could have died!"
"Well, yeah," Harry said with a shrug. "But I didn't."
Draco stared at him incredulously. "Gryffindors!." The word sounded like an insult, but it made Harry grin.
And then Draco's fingers tightened around his robe, and he pulled Harry forward, their lips slamming together. Harry forgot to breathe.
He forgot to do a lot of things, actually. Luckily instinct kicked in and he was kissing back before he could even think about it, his hand settling on Draco's shoulder. They parted, but not far, foreheads pressed together. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, alright?" Draco breathed. Harry was amazed the blond could find words. His head was still spinning, stuck in the moment Draco's lips touched his. Did this mean… what did this mean?
"I, er, can't guarantee that," he said eventually. "Triwizard champion. Harry Potter. Kinda comes with the territory."
Draco snorted, reluctantly amused. "A little bit of warning would have been nice, at least. 'I've got it handled, Draco'."
"I did have it handled!" Harry protested. "Look, I got the egg, I didn't die, I still have all my limbs. I'd say it was a resounding success."
The Slytherin stared at him, looking like he regretted every last one of the life choices that had brought him to that moment. Harry wanted to kiss him again. He wasn't sure if he was allowed. "I have to get to History of Magic," Draco said eventually, leaning back. Harry didn't let him go too far.
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