Hagrid took them straight to the Beauxbatons carriage first, clearly having arranged something in advance with Madame Maxime.
"Ah, Hagrid… is it time already?" Madame Maxime greeted him with a small smile.
"Good evening." Hagrid grinned as he reached out to help her down the golden steps of the carriage. "Let's go… But remember, no telling anyone about tonight..."
It sounded suspiciously like they were sneaking off for a romantic stroll in the woods…
Still, Cohen didn't see Madame Maxime refuse.
"It'll be worth it. You'll love it," Hagrid said as they walked. "Just make sure you don't breathe a word to anyone."
"Of course not," Madame Maxime promised.
Cohen and Harry followed behind the two half-giants, walking for what felt like ages along the edge of the Forbidden Forest—until they began to hear deafening roars in the distance.
Harry gasped sharply, though the sound was drowned out by Madame Maxime's own gasp when she saw what lay ahead.
Five ferocious adult dragons were penned inside a large enclosure made of thick wooden planks. They came in all colors, but none of them looked even remotely friendly.
At least forty witches and wizards surrounded them—eight people per dragon. The chains and harnesses meant to restrain them weren't doing much good. The dragons were furiously spewing flames at their handlers.
"They're really dragons..." Harry whispered to Cohen.
"Shh..." Cohen pressed a finger to his lips. A wizard had just spotted Hagrid and Madame Maxime and was heading toward them.
"Hagrid—stay back—" the wizard called out. He looked young, stocky, and not very tall.
The dragonfire lit up his hair, which was as red as Ron's.
It was obvious he was Ron's brother—Charlie Weasley, who worked with dragons in Romania and was here to help manage the ones being used for the tournament.
"Stun them! On the count of three!" Charlie shouted to his team. "One—two—three!"
Dozens of Stunners shot through the air, their sparks pelting the dragons' scaly hides like rain.
The dragons staggered for a moment, then collapsed one by one, mouths open in silent roars, though the flames in their nostrils had gone out.
The tremors from their massive bodies hitting the ground shook the nearby trees, sending leaves fluttering down like a storm.
"Aren't they beautiful..." Hagrid whispered, his eyes never leaving the dragons—especially since none of them resembled Norbert much.
"Charlie, how'd you get them here?" Hagrid asked.
"We used a strong sleeping draught," Charlie replied. "They were out the entire trip. We thought waking up in a quiet night would calm them down—but as you can see, they're not exactly happy."
"I recognize that one with the ridges on its back," Hagrid said, pointing to a Norwegian Ridgeback that looked similar to Norbert. "What about the others?"
"That's the Ridgeback. The black one is a Hungarian Horntail, the smaller green one is a Welsh Green—silver-blue is a Swedish Short-Snout, and the red one's a Chinese Fireball," Charlie explained, pointing them out one by one.
Cohen and Harry instinctively drifted a little away from the group, not wanting to risk getting caught in the crossfire—figuratively or literally.
"I actually really like the coloring on the Swedish Short-Snout," Cohen whispered to Harry.
"Don't tell me you're thinking of raising one," Harry said, appalled.
"Just a few eggs—for Norbert's company," Cohen replied casually. "It's a bit dull watching the same black dragon every day."
"...They've counted all the eggs, you know, Hagrid," Charlie said sternly after Hagrid let out a longing groan while staring at a few clutches of dragon eggs. "Keeping dragons privately is illegal."
"Of course, of course," Hagrid mumbled, though his eyes were still glued to the eggs.
"Let's go..." Harry tugged Cohen's sleeve. "You heard Charlie—the eggs have been counted..."
"Crack a few and it's fine," Cohen said calmly, already working through a rough plan. "No one's going to piece together broken shells and count them."
They didn't linger—both had gotten what they came for.
Harry now knew what the first task would be, and Cohen had picked out the kind of dragon egg he wanted to steal.
The Horntail and the Ridgeback were both black, which would make for a dull display in a crate. Much better to pick something vibrant—either the silvery-blue Swedish Short-Snout or the vivid red Chinese Fireball.
"Who's there?"
Just as they were making their way back along the path, a greasy voice cut through the darkness.
Karkaroff was hiding behind a bush, peeking around as he heard footsteps approaching.
But after a long pause with no one in sight, he finally turned his attention back to the dragons.
—
"Madame Maxime saw them."
Back in the Gryffindor common room, Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and said uneasily,
"Karkaroff saw them too—he'll definitely tell Fleur and Krum."
"If everyone cheats, then no one's really cheating," Cohen nodded. "Since you can't prove who got help and who didn't, it's only fair if I cheat in every task from now on. I think I'll call this theory the Dark Forest Hypothesis—"
"That's not the point," Harry cut him off. "There's still one champion who doesn't know what the first task is."
"How very chivalrous," Cohen said with mock admiration.
"Let's tell Cedric tomorrow," Harry said. "And I was thinking—we should ask Sirius about dragons—"
"You've got a Chimera on your side, what more do you need?" Cohen raised an eyebrow.
"I'd rather not rely on the Chimera if I can help it," Harry said firmly. "Otherwise, the newspapers will just say I'm a fraud who cheated his way through everything... again."
"Fair enough..." Cohen shrugged. "Your call."
The Chosen One, Cohen thought. Such impeccable character.
Made him feel like his very existence was cheating.
"I should probably tell Edward about this, too," Cohen added. "If it's just dragons, he'll be a lot more at ease."
Not just Edward—there was also Herbert.
Herbert knew next to nothing about Cohen's current situation. If he showed up and saw his "son" facing off against a dragon without any clue what was going on, he might panic and try to jump in himself.
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