I honestly had no idea how this day had gone this far sideways.

It was the day of the first task. Our goal was to get the golden egg from the severely pissed off nesting mother dragon.

I already knew about the dragons and the fact that we could only have a wand going into the task. That wasn't going to be a problem, I know lots of over powered spells that should hold it off I thought.

What nobody thought was going to happen was the horntail breaking the chain keeping her close to the eggs and away from the entrance.

So as soon as I walked out, she tail-whipped me. Given the size and speed of her tail I was sent into the air with aching ribs. Problem is that once I land, I'm only wearing the soft robs I was provided. I'm going to die from the impact with the rock-solid wall.

I could turn into a crow and use my wings to bleed off the momentum without hitting anything, but then Dumbledore might figure out that I was the one who gave him Bad Juju.

My armor could save me from the impact but then I would be outed as the mysterious person who slew the Death eaters at the world cup. If only I had another set of armor.

Wait a minute.

A long time ago I stole a set of armor from New Monarchy when they pissed me off. Slighted the memory of the Iron Lords. A set of sovereign lion hunter armor to be exact. This was too perfect.

All these thoughts went through my head in the time it took for me to fly about halfway to my destination of the unforgiving rock wall.

With a mental command to my ghost my stolen armor was equipped just in time for me to ring my bell against the solid rock wall.

Must have been a really hard-hit cause I saw mini horntail dragons coming for me.

Dumbledore POV

This day couldn't get much worse.

Young Harry being set against the meanest dragon on hand was bad enough but said dragon breaking its chain and stalking the entrance filled me with dread.

Then the horror of watching Mr. Potter fly through the air, courtesy of the dragon. Knowing that the magic of the Goblet of Fire prevented anyone from interfering with the tasks while they were in motion just added to the horror.

Then as if a miracle from the Christian god. Harry was obscured by a flash of light and his robes were no longer there.

They were replaced by a set of light armor that screamed Gryffindor. The breastplate, grieves, vambraces and cloak had golden lions embossed on them along with a bright red paint on the rest of the armor pieces. The helm however was of an exotic design. Where we still in school, I would have given him points for his marvelous transfiguration work.

When he did hit the side of the stadium it was not with a splatter but with a heavy thud.

The sound of cracking and squawking though made me question how bad a person's luck could be.

The horntail eggs were hatching, and all baby dragons are hungry when they hatch, this breed especially and they were big enough to pose a threat to any unarmed wizard.

Harry was still dazed from his collision with the wall and the baby dragons were closing in. Their mother watching patiently.

One got close enough to lunge at the unsuspecting boy and tear many a scream from the audience, me included.

However, no one expected what happened next.

Mr. Potter evaded with the grace of a dancer and pulled a knife from somewhere and stabbed the dog sized dragon in the eye. Killing it instantly. The dragon handlers would not be happy, but they could not interfere anymore then I could.

Without a moment's hesitation Harry pulled the knife out of the dragon's skull and threw it at another infant dragon. Amazingly the knife found its mark again in the eye socket of another baby dragon.

By this time the mother figured out that the little human was a real threat to her brood and decided to join the fray.

What happened next was the most beautiful display of a game of cat and mouse.

Using the rocky cliffs and athleticism no one had seen before, Harry managed to avoid the lunges of the brood and fire breath of the mother dragon. Pulling out knifes all the while and stabbing the hatchlings in the eyes. One of his most impressive feats was flipping upside-down and spinning while throwing knifes.

After less than ten minutes of this brutally beautiful display none of the hatchlings didn't have a knife in their eye.

Mr. Potter managed to put quite a bit of distance between him and the now distraught mother dragon. Another glow, like when he transfigured his clothes into armor, emanated from his hands. What was he going to do now?

The answer was as surprising as it was quick.

A bow.

A white bow as tall as Harry was and judging by how thick it was, incredibly powerful. In his right hand he held the biggest arrow I had ever seen. It too was incredibly beautiful.

Mr. Potter notched the arrow and trudged up to the top of the nearest rocky cliff. Not a single hint of the quite strenuous display of acrobatics affected his gait. I dare say he could have gone another round.

Once Harry was perched on top of his rocky hill, the dragon took notice of him. With rage and a thirst for vengeance she raised her head to take in a breath for another blast of dragon fire.

Just as her head was at its highest point and deepest breath, Mr. Potter drew the length of his magnificent bow, took aim, and fired.

The arrow flew so fast that I doubt anyone was able to track it by eyesight.

One moment the Hungarian Horntail was ready to end young Mr. Potter's life. The next moment she was dead, with that huge arrow sticking halfway out of her skull. No doubt the tailfeathers were still buried in her brain. Given how he slew the basilisk it shouldn't have been a surprise that Harry would go for the roof of the mouth of another reptile. Though this time he didn't decide to physically be in the mouth for the killing blow.

For another moment the dragon was frozen, as if reality couldn't believe that the mature fourteen-year-old had slayed the dragon with a bow and arrow.

Then reality caught up to the facts and the body of the dragon crumpled, like a puppet whose strings were cut.

Harry then made his way to the almost empty nest. In the center of it sat the golden egg. I expected him to just grab the egg and walk away. He did hate fame after all.

So, understandably, I was surprised that raised the egg above his head like a trophy. At first, I wondered why the boy who hated fame would do such a crowd-pleasing thing, and it was crowd pleasing. I am sure I lost more of my hearing from the cheers.

Then it hit me.

He was doing this for the person or persons who entered his name into the tournament. A declaration that he would not die to something so beneath him, and a promise of violence should he every find who did it. Given the show he just put on, I almost feel sorry for the fool who did it, almost, but not quite.

Harry POV

The score I got from the judges was of no consequence to me. That being said, I was below everyone else for killing the dragons.

Thankfully everyone thought my armor was a fantastic transfiguration. Only bad thing is that McGonagall was going to expect better results in her class. Oh well.

The party that the twins threw was amazing given the time they had and what they could purchase given their age and still being in Hogwarts.

So, you can imagine their surprise when the guest of honor pulls out a huge stash of hard muggle liquor. Fake IDs are so easy to make with glimmer and a ghost.

The party in the common room was by far the craziest that it had seen in the last ten years. I even managed to get Hermione to have a few drinks. Still however, it was nowhere near as wild as some of the raves I would organize for the Iron Lords, but it was enough to get me blackout drunk.

Which leads us to my current predicament.

I'm in my bed, naked, with Angelia Johnson. Once my brain processed this, I felt an emotion I had not felt in a very long time.

Embarrassment.

I can't count the number of times I have woken up in bed with other women, hell other men too, and just shrugged it off. This feeling of embarrassment, I hadn't felt it since the first time waking up with my one-night stand happened centuries ago.

Maybe it was because guardians had a different social role, maybe it was the fact that I no longer have my hound dog reputation to hide behind or it could be that I'm still in a teenage body and have had to act the part for so long. Doesn't matter, I had to get her out of my bed before someone finds out.

Apparently, she was a light weight in the drinking department cause nothing I did would wake her up and I was in no condition to carry her anywhere outside of the dorm. She was passed out on the side of my bed closest to Neville who was also passed out in said bed, and by the looks of it, not wearing his pajama top.

I am an evil sick, twisted, bastard.

But I still left Angelia in bed with Neville. Doesn't matter who she finds sleeping with her, she's still going to be mortified. At least Neville might come away from this with a confidence boost. I hope.

With a headache in one hand and my wand in the other, I collected all the empty bottles and vanished them.

Once my cover ups were done and knowing I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep I made my way down to breakfast. It was a Sunday; the task was held on a Saturday so that the champions had a day before going back to class.

At the Gryffindor table, no one above the age of thirteen was present.

McGonagall decided that I held the answer to where the rest of the house of Gryffindor was at.

"Mr. Potter, why aren't the rest of your classmates attending breakfast?" She asked with an edge to her voice that would have cowed anyone else.

"I think they might be sleeping off hangovers." I bluntly replied.

"Hangovers?" she asked in the best lion growl I've ever heard.

"Yah, I think someone spiked the butterbeer can't say for sure though."

With that she stormed off to the dormitory, and I could have a nice greasy breakfast.

About an hour later the first of the zombies of Gryffindor arrived. Lightweights.

But the head of house was making her way to me, damn rats.

"Mr. Potter, a little birdie told me that it was you who, how did you put it? Spiked the butterbeer."

"Couldn't have been me I'm an angel, can't you see the wings?" The sarcasm was thick with that sentence. And Mt. McGonagall was going to blow.

"I Harry James Potter i.e. Loki, founder of the Iron Lords, swear upon my magic that I haven't purchased fire whiskey in the last fourteen years."

With that another vow was made, my magic stayed with me and the deputy headmistress was defused. The twins were staring in awe.

"Be that as it may, the whole house except those third year and under, will be attending detention with me after breakfast." With that she walked off to finish her meal, followed by the collective groan of the zombies.

As promised detention was held in McGonagall's classroom, but the desks were replaced with benches on the sides of the walls and the middle was open. Mr. Filch was in the corner setting up the biggest vinyl record player I've ever seen.

Interesting.

"I originally had this planed for November but given what happened last night I have decided that now is the time." The professor ground out.

"The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard tournament since its inception. On Christmas Eve night, we and our guests gather in the great hall for an evening of well-mannered frivolity." She emphasized the last two words.

"As representatives of the host school I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward, and I mean this literally because the Yule Ball is, first and foremost, a dance."

With that the girls chattered excitedly, and the boys groaned in exasperation.

"Silence! The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly ten centuries I will not have you in the course of a single evening besmirching that name again by behaving like a babbling bumbling band of baboons."

This was getting good, making hungover teens dance the waltz.

"Now to dance is to let the body breath." Very true, she knows what she is talking about.

"In every girl, a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst forth and take flight." I couldn't help the snort at the corniness. "Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance. Mr. Potter will you join me please?"

Here it comes but I have a surprise for her.

"I do already know how to waltz professor." I stated.

"I will be the judge of that." She replied.

I bowed in the proper way, hand out and front knee bent. She seemed surprised, guess she thought I was bluffing. I flowed into the proper stance to begin, again she was wide eyed. When the music started, I moved.

Not a single foot was out of place nor hand where it shouldn't be. No one said a thing, that's how graceful we were. McGonagall was so caught up in her surprise that we didn't stop until the song ended.

Once it did, the professor seemed to come to her senses.

"I guess you do know how to dance Mr. Potter." She admitted.

"Yes, but if I'm being honest the waltz is a bit dated for me." I baited. No way was I going to let her calling me out go without a little chaos.

"Then what would be more your speed?" she asked with a quirked brow.

"As you said, to dance is to let the body breathe. To add to that, dancing is an expression of yourself. Like writing a song or creating a piece of art, it has its own magic. I doubt you have ever heard of shuffle dancing?"

"No, I have not." She replied.

"If I may?" I said while pointing my wand at the record player.

She nodded her approval and I charmed the thing to play a song from the last city. Atlantis by Scandinavianz but slowed down.

(VT video of the principal shuffle dancing with his students could only find the dam thing on Facebook.)

McGonagall seemed shocked when the music started but I didn't care. Once I had her attention again, I began to shuffle dance.

The Last City was a melting pot of the world's cultures, what remained of them anyways. This was something that was shown to the people during a Dawning festival by new refugees and I fell in love with the style of dance.

Without realizing it again, I danced through the whole song. Once I stopped everyone began clapping, even Professor McGonagall.

"That was beautiful Mr. Potter, now, everyone come together, boys, on your feet."

What followed was something that I and the professor will remember for vastly different reasons.

Everyone who drank too much was wobbly as they danced and wincing every time a high note played from that ancient machine. There was an odd number of students, so I had a front row seat. Until McGonagall asked me to help others, then I wasn't smiling, but she was.

Dumbledore POV

After the first task the tests on Bad Juju had resumed. Its secrets were not so easily uncovered, or would the more appropriate word be understood? Sirius Black would have to be contacted, someone needed to use the weapon in order to discern its function besides killing its target.

I'm reasonably confident that there will be no harm to the user but as a caution, the school nurse, myself and Ollivander will have to be present when it is used. Hagrid may love them but the acromantula hordes in the forest needed to be brought down to more manageable numbers.

While I was musing over the logistics of further testing. A familiar raven flew in through my open window dropping off another package. This time though he perched himself on Fawkes's stand. Curious.

After removing the wrapping, I found a wooden box containing more memories, probably modified to leave out pieces like the last one, and a letter.

Mr. Dumbledore

If you haven't tried to use Bad Juju yet, then I may offer some advice that could prove beneficial. While it won't corrupt its wielder like a true weapon of sorrow, it may give the user a taste for killing things if they are weak willed. So, get someone with a strong will to use it and they should be fine.

On to the package then. While I have given you knowledge of the Hive, I have not told you were they come from or what else will come when the dark days are upon us. The memories of my personal experiences with the Cabal, Eliksni, Vex, and Taken. Muninn, my raven, was instructed to wait for a letter from you if you so desire, he will also wait if you want to look at a memory first.

Eternally yours

L

It took a minute to get over the shock. dread? With that I picked up one of the memories, this one labelled Taken. Muninn kept his eye on me but didn't move from his perch. No sense procrastinating.

I had no idea what I was getting into when I dipped my head into the water of the pensieve.

Thankyou to those who have stuck with this story despite my erratic writing schedule. I try to do two chapters of one story then two for the other one I'm writing. I will be switching to my other story; it hasn't been updated since July (Sobbing) and finals are fast approaching so I may not update for a while. I know its overused, but please leave a review. Doesn't have to be some mantra praising my work (but those do tickle my ego) it could be a question on something you notice, half the time the constructive reviews spot a plot hole I didn't, or something you don't like about it and they just help keep my pumped about this story. Anyways hope to get back to you guys soon.

Justus3138