AN:

I recently came across the English songs of the Death Note musical on YouTube and noticed that Daphne is not that dissimilar to Misa in some respects, namely, in her love for Harry. Of course, she also differs from Misa in many ways (she's not that stupid and naive) and Harry is of course a completely different person than Light, but I still found it quite interesting. Especially the two songs "I'm Ready" and "I'll Only Love You More" could – with a few changes – come from Daphne. My music tips for today xD

Small note: This chapter also features a spell from the third Harry Potter video game, my favorite part of the video game series. I've really played it several times in my childhood. Oh, the nostalgia :D

As always, many thanks to my great beta reader Verlor (id: 11113787) who protects you from my worst, German-looking sentences and questionable content-related decisions.

Chapter 23 – Hogwarts' Qualm

"Excellent, Harry. Really outstanding," praised Lupin after Harry hit the three floating tennis balls in a matter of seconds.

Harry and Daphne had quickly realized that killing the dragon in the first task would probably be a bit overambitious. After all, the champions should only have to get past the dragons. And it would probably cause some upset in the international wizarding community if four of these unique creatures died for simple entertainment. After all, wizards weren't barbarians, at least that's what they thought of themselves.

Thus, they'd been looking for ways to distract or immobilise dragons. The only problem was that dragons were extremely resistant to magic of all kinds, if you could penetrate their scales and thick hide at all. However, chance brought it about that they had a competent defense teacher whom Harry wanted to know better anyway. And he had once told them that he would do anything to protect Harry. Presumably to ease his sense of guilt for his earlier failure, but that was okay with Harry. He could use any help, for whatever motives.

They could have turned to Hagrid, of course, but he had already broken several rules when he showed Harry the dragons. Besides, his suggestion would probably have been to tickle the dragon's belly...

And that is how it came that Harry, Daphne and Lupin were in the defense classroom two days before the first task to practice the so-called Conjunctivitis Curse. Lupin had recommended this spell because it would lead to painfully swollen eyes, accompanied by an impaired vision. Exactly what you needed to get past a dragon, since the eyes were pretty much the only place where the creature was vulnerable.

However, you first had to hit the eyes of a, probably moving, dragon. That's exactly what they wanted to train with the floating tennis balls. First of all, Harry had had to learn the spell, which had gone very quickly, and by now he was even capable of casting it silently. Since then, he was practicing the spell with more and more and faster flying balls in order to prepare himself as best as possible for the task.

With some complacency, Harry turned to his teacher, who nodded approvingly.

"You have a very fast wrist there," Lupin said. "And the ability to use the spell silently. I would appeal to your conscience to behave responsibly if it wouldn't be so hypocritical of me." Lupin chuckled at his last words.

Harry wiped the sweat from his forehead. "What do you mean, professor?"

"The spell was very popular during my school days," Lupin replied, shaking his head, but his grin betrayed his amusement. "Your father especially loved using it to prank Slytherins. I'm afraid he brought Madam Pomfrey a lot of extra work."

Harry looked up curiously, as every time people talked about his father. "He used that spell too?" he asked. "And against Slytherins?"

"Not just him," laughed Lupin "It was a kind of popular sport for a while, until at some point people went around with face visors and glasses. But your father was clearly the best at it, even if he wasn't as good as you, at least when I see your performance here." He pointed to the tennis balls frozen in the air.

A warm feeling filled Harry's body. He hoped he would make his parents proud in two days.

"Great story, really," Daphne interrupted their conversation. "I'm also happy to hear how stupid Slytherins suffer, but we should keep practicing." With that, she summoned five more tennis balls and let them float around the room so quickly that their contours became blurred. That was probably what seekers in Quidditch had to feel like trying to keep an eye on the snitch, Harry thought.

He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the first tennis ball.

"If you hit me, I'll kill you," he heard Daphne's not-so-serious voice.

…

"I think you're well prepared," Lupin said as he poured them tea. "It won't be easy, of course, but I also teach older students, including Mr. Diggory, and I think I can therefore assess quite well what they're capable of. Professor Dumbledore also assured me that there is no mortal danger."

Harry noticed Daphne flinch at Lupin's words, but she didn't say anything. Tenderly, he squeezed her hand and was rewarded with a loving smile that made his heart sing.

Afterwards, the three talked about all sorts of topics. Lupin seemed particularly interested in their stay in Alexandria. Harry preferred not to ask how he learned of that. The answer to this question probably started with "Dumble" and ended with "Dore".

At some point – the sun had long since set outside, even if Harry hadn't noticed it during their exciting conversation – Daphne had to yawn loudly. "I'm going back to the dungeon," she said, pushing Harry back into the chair when he wanted to get up as well. "You can keep talking if you want."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked his girlfriend. "I can –"

Daphne gave him an affectionate look. "Thanks, Harry. But I can see how much fun you have. You don't have to stop because of me. We'll see each other in the morning. Tomorrow we'll have to train even harder than today." She threw him a sober look before finally a slight smile crept onto her lips. "Good night, my darling," she whispered in his ear, giving Harry goose bumps. With a last soft goodbye kiss, she left Harry and Lupin in the office.

"James would be proud of you," Lupin said, grinning at Harry.

"What do you mean?"

"That you caught such a loving girl so early. It took him ages to convince Lily just to go on a date with him. Now look at you. You and Daphne almost remind me of an elderly couple."

Harry felt his face burn, which made Lupin laugh even louder.

"And the way you treat her," Lupin continued. "A true gentleman. Your mother would be so proud of you."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Can you tell me more about my parents," he asked excitedly. "And maybe about their parents too? I would like to hear as much as possible about my family."

"Of course, Harry," Lupin replied, smiling, before suddenly standing up. "But we'll need more tea for this."

Bartemius Crouch thought about his life when he stumbled along the dark corridor with his hands tied, since he knew he wouldn't survive this evening. Overall, he was satisfied with what he had achieved. After all, he had climbed the ladder of success, at least most of the time. He also attributed himself a large contribution to the fact that his country had survived the war. He had even been on the verge of becoming Minister of Magic.

However, his most appalling mistake had destroyed everything. He should never have fathered his wayward son, who had nothing of him and his beloved Martha. His son, who had joined an insane lunatic. His son, who had tortured the Longbottoms with the Death Eater scum until they had lost their minds. His son, whose wand was boring into his back right now.

He had been expecting it since his son escaped from captivity. He should've never listened to his stupid house elf, but that wasn't important anymore.

Bartemius had never been someone to shirk responsibility. Like the heroes in ancient tragedies, he would pay for his sins today. At least, he would see his Martha again, whom he had missed terribly for the last thirteen years. His love for her had softened him; he should have let his son rot in Azkaban. But that was no longer important either. He wouldn't be begging today. Even if the world would probably never know about it, he decided to die upstanding.

They reached the end of the long corridor. His son pushed him into a room, which was lit by a blazing fireplace on the opposite wall. The wallpaper peeled off the walls, but otherwise the room seemed almost cozy. There were thick carpets on the floor and in front of him stood a high armchair facing the fireplace. Bartemius had no idea why his son had brought him to this room, but it was as good as any other place to die.

His son forced him to his knees and leaned down. The madness shone in his eyes. No, he really had nothing from him or Martha.

"And how are you going to do it?" he asked his son contemptuously. "Do you slit my throat? Or the death curse? Or do you torture me first, as you did with Frank and Alice Longbottom?"

His son grinned at him with dirty yellow teeth when suddenly there was a laugh. It was a cold, cheerless laugh that made Bartemius' hair stand on end. The laugh, however, did not come from his son, but from the armchair in front of the fire. So they weren't alone.

"Who else did you bring here?" Bartemius hissed at his son. "More of your Death Eater friends?"

"Now, now, my dear Bartemius!" said a ghastly, male voice, from which the laughter must have come. "No reason to be unmannered. We are all great men here, because you think of yourself as such, right, Bartemius? A great, respected man who is constantly concerned about his reputation and honor, even in death."

"Who are you?" Bartemius called towards the armchair. "Show yourself, you coward!"

The strange man laughed again while his son pressed the wand to Bartemius' throat.

"Keep your temper, Barty," the stranger said coldly. "It is not the right time yet. Before that, I want to talk to your father."

"Yes, my lord."

Lord? Had his son called the stranger his Lord? Did that mean –

Before Bartemius could finish his train of thought, the man in the armchair spoke again. "Bartemius Crouch, I have to say, you once had my respect, and not many can say that. How you fought my servants back then. Relentless, brutal, merciless. Of course, it was completely hopeless, but still, you can be proud of yourself."

An icy cold spread through Bartemius' body. No, everything, but not this monster!

"You were certainly a not insignificant annoyance," the man continued. "Perhaps I would even have given you the honor of killing you myself. But I never thought that one day I would even thank you."

Bartemius shivered. He felt like he was in one of his worst nightmares.

"Yes, you heard right, Bartemius. I have to thank you. Thank you for being so careful with Lord Voldemort's possessions."

Bartemius felt like he was losing consciousness. Only his son's relentless grip prevented him from collapsing on the floor.

"You didn't kill any of my servants," the man – Voldemort – continued. "You let the cowards go. And the brave, who would never deny me, you brought to Azkaban. With that, you rendered Lord Voldemort a great service. Now I can get them all back at once when the time comes. Then they can serve me again. And until then, you will serve me, my dear Bartemius."

Bartemius knew that he couldn't rely on his courage, which was pitiful anyway. Instead, he used all his hatred and disgust to push his jaw apart. "I'll never serve you," he yelled. "I spit on you. You'll never win."

The blow hit him hard in the face, causing Bartemius to tip over. Above him he saw his son's hateful face.

"Stay calm, Barty," said Voldemort. "I assure you, his life will be yours to end, but not yet. He still has to be of use to me. You may continue."

The last thing Bartemius saw before endless darkness enveloped him was the tip of his grinning son's wand.

The stadium roared while Daphne felt as if her heart had been pierced by a spear of ice.

No! That just couldn't be true! No!

NO!

NO! NO!

Please!

But there was no doubt. Harry's charred body lay in the middle of the arena. Her Harry was dead, charred by the dragon's flames.

Her Harry was dead!

Daphne screamed, loud and horrible. All eyes were on her. They grinned at her, full of malice and glee.

The Gryffindors were in each other arms, Malfoy punched the air. Everyone rejoiced as Harry's body crumbled into ashes.

Daphne was trembling; hot, painful, imbued with hatred. She clutched her wand. Lupin talked to her, but she didn't hear him.

They should all die! Die, suffer, atone! The whole fucking world.

Daphne raised her wand, aimed it at the crowd. They should burn, burn in the eternal fire of damnation.

She screamed the incantation, but nothing happened. The students laughed at her. She screamed again, but the demons didn't answer her.

Hagrid grabbed her, but Daphne slapped his hand away. She couldn't think clearly anymore. She felt like she was losing her mind. Her head was spinning.

Harry was dead! Her Harry was no longer with her! Gone, burned, mocked.

He had broken his promise. She was alone, completely alone.

Tears streamed down Daphne's face as she ran away, ignoring the calls from Lupin and Hagrid. Her life had lost all its meaning.

She ran as fast as she could. She ran down the stand. She ran out of the stadium. She kept running.

She just wanted to get away. Away from other people, away from this world, away from everything.

Daphne had no idea how long she was running. She ran over grass, she ran over stone, she ran downstairs, and she ran upstairs.

At some point, she realized that she had reached the top of the astronomy tower. Did fate want her to come here? Here she and Harry had once watched the stars, here they had once been happy.

Here was a good place to die.

Daphne climbed over the railing so that she was standing right on the edge. With one last thought of beautiful green eyes, she plunged into the depths.

The fall lasted only a few seconds.

With a jerk, Daphne shot up, only to be immediately grabbed by strong arms.

"All's well," she heard a familiar voice. "All's well. It's me, Harry."

Harry!

She looked into the face she was all too familiar with. The soft features that had burned so deeply into her memory. The bright green eyes that were the most beautiful thing in the world for her. The lips she had kissed so many times.

Her Harry lived!

"Harry," Daphne shouted, flinging her arms around her lover's neck. She would never let him go again. She realized that all that had been just a nightmare, the most terrible of all. Much more horrific than the previous horrors of the night.

"Yes, it's me," Harry laughed, but it was obvious that his laugh was forced. "I couldn't sleep. Too nervous, you know. So I wanted to stop by and see how you're doing. Sorry if I scared you."

Daphne knew Harry was lying. And Harry had to know it too. Still, she was infinitely grateful to him for coming to her, however he did it.

She pressed very close to him, buried her face in his chest, smelled his scent. She knew she wasn't normal. All the torture, day in and day out, all the hatred, all the disgust, it had destroyed something in her. It was a miracle that Harry could love her. Without him was only emptiness, pain and despair. Without him was only death.

"Please don't die tomorrow," she sobbed.

Harry's grip on her tightened. "I won't," he whispered.

Daphne wanted to believe him, but that cold feeling remained in her heart. The doubts, the fear.

"I will never leave you alone. I promise."

Daphne started to cry, gave free rein to her feelings. What a pathetic creature she was. But Harry was with her and that was the only thing that mattered. Daphne knew she was a broken soul, but with Harry she felt whole. With Harry, her life made sense.

The next morning, Harry woke up with a heavy, honey-blonde head on his chest. Blonde hair that he knew and loved all too well. It belonged to his Daphne who snored softly, which Harry thought was incredibly cute, even if, of course, he would never tell her that.

Suddenly, he remembered why he was lying here in Daphne's bed in the girls' dormitory. His face darkened at the thought. It had been the middle of the night, when he had felt Daphne being pulled away from him, like a small boat in stormy sea. The warmth of their togetherness had gone, replaced by a feeling of horrible coldness. An awful, pervasive fear.

Harry had known immediately that these had to be Daphne's feelings. In a heartbeat, he had jumped up and ran to the girls' dormitory. He had arrived at Daphne just as she had woken up from her nightmare. Her request gave him an idea of what she must have dreamed of.

It hurt him to see Daphne suffer like this. She was so scared for him. She had been right; they should never have returned to England.

He looked lovingly at Daphne's sleeping face. She looked so peaceful, so kind and carefree. Entirely different than in the night when she had cried in his embrace for such a long time. Eventually, however, they both had fallen asleep.

All of a sudden, their two stomachs started to growl loudly. The harmony of their hunger sounds must have awakened Daphne, because now Harry looked into her deep blue eyes, blessings and hope of his existence. A beautiful smile spread over her lips.

"Good morning," she greeted him sleepily.

"Good morning, princess," Harry replied, also smiling all over his face. "Breakfast?"

"Yes! I'm hungry!"

Harry laughed. If there was one thing in the world he could rely on, it was his girlfriend's hunger in the morning.

"Then just let me get up and go back to my dorm," he said with a grin. "I shouldn't go to the Great Hall in pajamas, should I? Don't want the others to lose all respect for me."

"No, of course we don't want that," Daphne replied with a sparkle in her eyes. "And the bulge in your pants shouldn't see anyone except me."

Harry looked down at himself and Daphne burst into laughter before gripping his face to kiss him hard on the lips.

Their snogging lasted several minutes and was only interrupted by repeated stomach growls, before Daphne pulled away from Harry and opened the curtain of her bed.

Instantly, the voices of Daphne's roommates, which had previously been kept off by the spells around the bed, approached them.

"Go," Daphne urged. "We'll meet in the common room."

When Harry got up, three surprised pairs of eyes turned to him. Davis even began screaming loudly and quickly covered herself with a white sheet. Rolling his eyes, Harry went to the door. As if he would be interested in Daphne's lightly dressed roommates. They were so conceited.

…

During breakfast in the Great Hall there was a tense and excited atmosphere; all conversations seemed to be solely about the first task taking place today. Harry also noticed that Daphne was still very nervous, so he held her hand. He, on the other hand, felt completely calm. He had a goal and would do whatever was necessary to achieve that goal. He was prepared as well as possible for this and unnecessary worries wouldn't help him now.

Classes were to stop at lunchtime, so that all students would have the opportunity to attend the task at the dragons' enclosure, even if they didn't know yet that the four champions had to face dragons.

Daphne decided without further ado to skip the morning lessons. Together, they went to a large rock by the lake, on which they enjoyed the rays of the cold autumn sun. The wind brushed Harry's face as they heard nothing but the quacks of some ducks on the water.

One, two, three hours passed without one of them saying a word. They just enjoyed being together while each was lost in their own thoughts.

At some point, however, Daphne lifted her head from Harry's shoulder and looked at him with a mischievous expression on her face. "Tell me, how did you actually get into the girls' dormitory at night?"

Harry raked his fingers through his hair before answering. "Oh, you know, the stairs only stop you when you touch them. And maybe you've noticed it before, but I'm a wizard. So I had my ways."

Suddenly, a gleesome laugh rang out behind the two teenagers. They whirled around just to look into Lupin's amused face. They hadn't noticed that he had approached them.

"I think I'd rather ignore you hanging around in the girls' dormitory at night," Lupin said, grinning. "That's Severus' area of responsibility anyway."

"What do you want, professor?" asked Harry.

"I want to get you, Harry. The champions must now go to the enclosure, to prepare for the task. I'll take you there."

Harry nodded and took Daphne's by now cramped hand. He could almost hear her jaws crunching.

With Daphne at his side, he followed Lupin along the edge of the forest to the dragon enclosure until they stood in front of a large tent.

"You have to wait in there with the other champions," Lupin turned to Harry. "Mr. Bagman will explain the further procedure. I … I wish you all the best. You'll be fine, I'm sure." Lupin's eyes slid to Daphne, who had started to tremble. "I'm waiting over there, Daphne. I can accompany you to the arena if you want."

Daphne said nothing, but Harry nodded gratefully to Lupin, who walked away and leaned against a tree, looking into another direction.

Daphne hugged Harry so hard that he almost fell over. "Harry, I ..." she paused as if she didn't know how to proceed.

"I know, Daph," he said, drinking in her tantalising scent of oranges and sunflowers. "Me too."

They held each other in their arms for so long, leaving it to their bodies to express all the emotions they felt until they heard someone stepping out of the tent.

"Harry, Harry," came Ludo Bagman's amused voice. "I don't want to disturb young love, but everyone is waiting for you. We have to start now."

Reluctantly, Harry broke away from Daphne and stared into her mesmerizing eyes. "Daphne, I –"

"I know. Me too."

With that, Daphne leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. After only a few seconds, much faster than Harry would have liked, she pulled away from him again. She gave him one last loving look before turning around and quickly walking towards the waiting Lupin, her arms wrapped around her torso.

Sighing, Harry also turned around and followed Bagman into the tent, where the other three champions and four miniature dragons were already waiting for him.

Lupin led her into an arena that could only have been built so quickly with magic, already full of spectators. In addition to the students of the three schools and their teachers, Daphne also saw ministry officials such as Crouch, Bones and Fudge, journalists (if you wanted to call those hacks such) and dragon tamers holding a blue-silver dragon with long horns under control. It was a Swedish Short-Snout, as Daphne recognized thanks to her studies of the previous days.

At the sight of the creature, Daphne felt her legs weaken. She forced herself to breathe calmly. She followed Lupin to the top of the grandstand, where Hagrid was already sitting and beckoning them over. Her core cramped at the sight of the half-giant. It was just like her dream; she was between Lupin and Hagrid.

It was just a stupid coincidence, she tried to calm down as she settled in the seat Hagrid had kept free for her. Daphne noticed that Hagrid was apparently trying to engage her in a conversation, but she couldn't listen or respond. In general, she was no longer able to think clearly. Her heart felt like a chunk of ice as the other spectators around her joked and laughed.

"I hope he croaks today," Ron muttered, looking at the dragons. He would love to see them shred Potter.

"Ronald! It's terrible to say something like that!" Hermione shrieked.

Ron gave his friend a pejorative look. She was fooling herself. "You can't tell me that you wouldn't be happy if he was finally gone," he hissed at her.

"But … but that doesn't mean I want him to die", Hermione muttered.

Bagman told the audience that the champions had to steal a golden egg from one of the female dragons that had been smuggled under the other eggs. Daphne cursed inwardly. That should be a task without mortal danger? Everyone knew that dragon mothers would kill anyone who came too close to their eggs.

Her fingernails clawed into her palms, causing them to almost bleed, but Daphne didn't care. She also ignored Lupin and Hagrid's attempts to calm her.

As if anything could distract her from her fear for Harry!

Oh please, Harry. Please come back to me.

Suddenly, there was a familiar call above her head. Daphne looked up to see Fawkes slowly circling down.

Daphne felt the eyes of the entire arena as the phoenix landed on her lap, where he immediately curled up, head under one of his wings. A pleasant warmth emanated from the flaming bird, which at least made Daphne relax a little.

"Thank you, Fawkes," she whispered, running her fingers over his red and gold feathers.

McGonagall looked curiously at her friend and colleague, who in turn looked thoughtfully at Miss Greengrass.

"I didn't know Fawkes had such a close relationship with Miss Greengrass," she said to him.

Albus Dumbledore turned to McGonagall. "It actually surprised me at the beginning," he replied. "I know that he visits her from time to time, both at Hogwarts and at her home over the summer. And he saved Harry and Daphne from the Chamber."

McGonagall nodded. "That's true, but I still wonder what it's all about."

"Fawkes is a good soul," Dumbledore replied enigmatically. "I'm sure you also realized that Daphne may not have had a pleasant childhood. I think Fawkes just wants to help her, as he does now. Phoenixes are creatures of love, hope, and comfort. She must be worried about Harry."

McGonagall played nervously with her fingers. She, too, wasn't happy that the champions had to face such dangerous creatures as dragons. So much could go wrong today, despite all their precautions.

Young Harry had grown dear to her, as had his parents before. She even didn't care that he was an Slytherin. By rescuing Miss Greengrass from the Chamber and facing the other student's contempt every day, he had already shown more courage than most wizards and witches throughout their lives. That, and the fact that, at just fourteen, along with Miss Greengrass, he was the best student she had ever taught gave her confidence that he would come through today's task.

As long as he didn't pick the Hungarian Horntail, she added in her mind. She didn't have the faintest idea what the Organizing Committee was thinking. That dragon was more dangerous than all the other dragons combined. It was madness to have a student, as talented as he was, compete alone against this beast.

McGonagall was ripped from her thoughts when a loud whistle and Bagman's voice announced the first champion.

A sense of disappointment gripped Daphne when Cedric Diggory entered the arena as the first champion. She had hoped that Harry could start and that everything would be over quickly. Fate, however, didn't seem to answer her prayer.

Diggory was as white as a sheet as he approached the Swedish Short-Snout. It was obvious that he had no idea what to expect. Typical Hufflepuff. Too honorable.

Diggory let colorful flashes whirr around the dragon's head so he could sneak past the creature while she was distracted. That might even have worked if Diggory hadn't been so clumsy when sneaking. Even up here in the stands, Daphne could hear his footsteps and rattling breath.

And the obvious happened. The dragon turned his gaze to Diggory and with a well-aimed blow of her tail she hurled him against the wall of the arena. The audience groaned. That must have hurt.

After being briefly treated by medi-witches, Diggory made many other attempts to get past the dragon. A spell produced the smell of delicious roasted meat. Another spell imitated the mating call of a Red-mouthed Reek-Roarer; unfortunately, the completely wrong dragon species. Daphne also doubted that the Swedish Short-Snout was lesbian.

Eventually, Diggory managed to get past the dragon and reach the golden egg by turning a boulder into a dog that distracted the dragon. However, he also suffered a severe facial burn and was carried to an adjacent hospital tent in pain.

Daphne felt miserable. Even knowing that Harry was a much better wizard than Diggory didn't reassure her. Damn dragons and damn ministry.

Fleur Delacour then faced a Common Welsh Green. She tried to put the dragon into a kind of trance and was quite successful. Only once did the dragon breathe out flames that set her skirt on fire for a short time before she could extinguish it. The male audience still drooled at the sight of her bare buttocks. In disgust, Daphne looked away.

Also the penultimate champion wasn't Harry, but Viktor Krum, who had to deal with a Chinese Fireball. She was the smallest of the dragons to date, and Krum had no problems getting to the golden egg after his curse hit the dragon's eye. It was the same curse that Harry wanted to use. Daphne could only hope that it would go just as smoothly for him, even if Krum got a few marks off because the pain-stricken dragon trampled part of the eggs. But why should she care about the eggs, Daphne asked herself. The only important thing was that Harry came back safely. Hagrid, however, sobbed loudly beside her.

When the last dragon was brought into the arena, Daphne felt as if a large tub of ice-cold water had been poured over her. It was the most hideous and cruel creature she had ever seen, even worse than the basilisk. It was the largest and most dangerous dragon species in the world. A Hungarian Horntail!

With fear in her heart, Daphne looked at the dragon Harry had to face. Scales so dark that they seemed to absorb all sunlight. Claws and teeth as sharp as razor blades. Tail, packed with huge spikes, as long as her forearms, easily piercing any flesh. And the fire of this beast was only surpassed by fiendfyre itself.

"And here comes our youngest champion, Harry Potter!" Bagman's voice boomed.

When Harry entered the arena and glanced up at her, Daphne wanted to jump up and run to him. Why, why did they have to be in this situation? Why not anyone else?

Even Fawkes straightened up and looked at the dragon, this monster of wickedness. Her fingers clawed into the plumage of the phoenix as Harry approached the dragon under the boos from the crowd.

Harry's heart was pounding as he entered the arena. Hundreds of faces stared down at him from the stands. He heard booing and laughing, but he didn't care. He knew that many of those present today probably wished him to die.

His eyes searched for Daphne and finally found her at the top, between Hagrid and Lupin, with Fawkes on her lap. May they take care of her, he thought as he turned to his dragon, whom he had previously only seen in books and as a miniature figure.

The Horntail was really a terrifying creature; monstrous, black, created to kill.

But not today!

With fiery determination, Harry returned the dragon's evil eye. She thrashed her spiked tail, leaving large gouge-marks in the ground. Behind her shimmered the golden egg he had to get. And he would, oh yes! And if someone were to die, it would certainly not be him! He hadn't taken on the King of Serpents and the self-proclaimed Dark Lord, only to let himself be killed by an oversized lizard.

Cautiously, Harry approached the dragon, who watched his every move with fearsome yellow eyes. Nevertheless, it was obvious that the dragon didn't want to move away from her eggs, as she kept eyeing the nearby dragon-tamers and spectators.

Harry, however, had no choice. Somehow, he had to get past the dragon and to the nest. To do so, he had to take out the creature.

Harry walked very slowly, taking each step individually. He didn't know exactly when he would be within range of her flame, but he expected it every second. He would have to survive this one attack and then hit the dragon, then he would have made it. In the last few days, they had discussed and practiced it time and again, even if they hadn't expected him to face such a monster.

All the time, Harry kept his eyes on the dragon's jaws. Thus, he immediately noticed when he crossed the mark and the dragon's throat swelled.

When the Horntail spat her blazing fire on him, Harry was prepared. As quick as a wink, he jerked his wand up and created a shield of swirling air in front of him. The flames hit his air shield, creating a sound that reminded Harry of a whistling teapot.

At the same time, however, the air around him warmed noticeably, as the flames ricocheted off the shield and bathed his entire field of vision in red. A terrible heat reached Harry. He felt like his eyebrows were scorching. It was almost unbearable and if he hadn't closed his eyes so quickly, he would've been seriously worried about his eyesight. Better no air shield next time.

Harry counted the seconds while the dragon kept covering him with her flames. At some point, the fleabag had to be out of breath, but when? She'd been breathing fire longer than he'd ever read it in any of the books in the library.

After almost two minutes, the flames finally died down. Just in time before Harry would have had to take more drastic measures to save himself from the heat.

As soon as the dragon stopped, Harry lifted the spell and stormed forward. There were still thirty meters to the dragon, but he was already pointing his wand at its yellowish eyeballs. Twenty-five meters. Harry gathered the magic inside him, felt it flow through his body.

Twenty meters. Now!

Harry hurled the spell he'd been training hundreds of times over the past few days directly onto the beast's eyes. The world around him froze as he watched his spell whiz towards the dragon's head. If it hit, the dragon would be blind!

Lady Fortune, however, was a treacherous lover. Just when Harry's curse was supposed to hit the dragon's eye, she blinked! She blinked! The chance was one in a million and the damn dragon blinked!

Harry cursed inwardly when suddenly all the sounds around him came back to him; sounds he had previously blocked out. The crowd trembled and cheered. Bagman shouted into his microphone.

"Unbelievable! Potter's curse bounces off! Now he's in for it!"

And indeed, Harry saw the dragon scream furiously and swing her spiked tail. Harry knew that a hit would mean his death.

He dodged aside at just the right moment. Head over heels, he landed in a wet hollow, while only a few feet beside him the dragon's massive tail crashed to the ground. If it had hit him, he would now be like the strawberry mush that Dobby loved to eat.

The dragon's tail twitched again, ready for the next attack. Harry knew that he had to get out of the dragon's range before trying again.

Clotted with mud, he pointed his wand at the entrance to the arena through which he had stepped only a few minutes ago.

Carpe retractum!

Harry felt the sudden pull of the magic rope that connected the tip of his wand and his destination on the other side of the arena. He clutched his wand as he was dragged through the air. Just in time before the dragon's tail turned the place where Harry had been into a lunar crater.

As elegant as possible, he landed at the entrance, out of reach of the deadly creature.

"Well, that was nothing," came Bagman's voice. "Mr. Potter, you'll have to do better next time."

Fucking tosser, Harry thought. Maybe he should try to get past this creature. That was something he would love to see.

Harry turned back to the dragon, who hatefully stared at him with her vertical pupils, her fangs bared. But he was too far away for the dragon to attack. Her flame didn't reach that far, and she wouldn't risk leaving her eggs unattended. For the first time ever, Harry was grateful to the other students, who were at least useful as a perceived latent danger. Not that Harry would have had a problem letting the dragon grill them all so that he could reach the golden egg in peace.

Harry knew that he had to be especially careful about the fire. That would be the dragon's first and most horrific attack weapon. If he survived this, he would have a chance.

Once again, he slowly approached the Horntail, who was already blowing her nostrils. Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he counted his steps. Three more steps. Two more. Another one.

And now!

Just as the dragon spat her wreckful flames on him, Harry conjured a massive stone wall in front of him, putting all his strength into the rocks.

The flames hit the wall and Harry was almost pushed back.

No, you bastard. I won't give in!

Harry's feet searched for a foothold as he braced himself against the blast. He would own this damn dragon!

He saw the stone blocks in front turn red with heat, but it was still much more pleasant than the previous burst of flame. Stone shield better than air shield, he noted in his mind. However, conjuring stones was also much more complex than deforming air. He was good at transfiguration, he had no doubts, but he also knew that Daphne was a little bit better. He thanked his girlfriend for having insisted on practicing so many transfiguration spells in the past. If it had been up to him, he would have practiced only curses that wouldn't have helped him at that moment.

In his head, he counted the seconds until the dragon would be out of breath again and the flames would stop. That would be his moment!

Three. Two. One.

It was like the previous burst of flames. The dragon stopped at exactly the moment Harry expected. He broke down the glowing stone wall and jumped out from behind it. Pushed by the roar of the spectators, he rushed forward, directly towards the dragon, whose claws and tail were again twitching dangerously.

Almost there. Two more meters. Now!

Harry raised his wand and pointed it at the dragon's head. With a brief effort of thought and an imperceptible movement of his wrist, a violet flash raced toward the dragon's eyes.

Harry couldn't wait to see if this time the curse hit its target. Immediately after firing his curse, he turned around and, as before, let himself be pulled from a magic rope to the other end of the arena. Just in time before the deadly claws hit the ground.

He felt like Tarzan as he shot through the air. Around him he heard the roar of the audience and the dragon's sudden, painful cry. So this time the creature hadn't blinked and his curse had hit the pupils.

Harry landed and turned to the still hissing creature. She flung her head from side to side, blinking wildly. Even from this distance, Harry could see a yellow, slimy liquid sticking the dragon's eyes. Apparently, conjunctivitis was truly uncomfortable. His pity, however, was limited.

Harry gazed in awe as the frantic dragon raged with pain and anger. The creature trampled around like crazy and smashed one egg after the other with her spiked tail, making the dragon all the more furious. A mother's love, indeed.

The golden egg was also hit by the dragon's tail and hurled to the opposite side of the arena. The other eggs were all destroyed by now.

Although the Horntail could no longer see as well as before, Harry was now dealing with a dangerous dragon out of control, who was also no longer worried about her own eggs. In her despair and grief, the dragon mother only wanted to take bloody revenge.

Bloody hell.

Daphne felt like she was going to collapse at any moment while watching the spectacle in the arena. With her heart pounding painfully and her hands trembling, she had watched Harry be enveloped in deadly flames twice, but in the end he remained unscathed. Still, Daphne had died a thousand deaths during that time. She just couldn't forget the pictures of her nightmare. Harry as he was caught by the flames. How he cried out in pain before his voice fell silent forever. His charred, lifeless body...

Helplessly, she had seen Harry's curse bouncing off the dragon's lids, and him escaping the tail's deadly blow.

She had cheered when his second curse had found its target. The dragon had finally lost her eyesight!

Stunned, she had watched the dragon smashing her own eggs, her own children! The dragon's screams when she recognized her deed had been horrible, and at some other time she would have felt sorry for the dragon mother. So, she just wished that the creature would perish. Slowly or quickly, with or without pain, she didn't care.

The dragon was raging while trying to crush Harry. With every roar, with every blow of her claws, with every burst of flame, Daphne winced as if it were she who was fighting the dragon. And in a sense, she was. She knew that her nightmare was a reflection of the pure, ugly truth that encompassed her entire existence.

Without Harry, she would take her own life, since then there would be nothing left for her to live for. She would rather spend an eternity in hell with Harry than live one day apart from him. She realized what she wanted in the depths of her soul but was still too afraid to reveal it.

It almost seemed as if Harry and the dragon were dancing together. A dance of death. The dragon spat fire, Harry conjured an obstacle. The dragon struck with her deadly claws, Harry dodged. The dragon whipped her spiked tail, Harry jumped to the side.

So it went on for what felt like an eternity, in which Daphne became more and more miserable.

At some point, she noticed how Harry slowed down! His reactions took longer, and his movements became more sluggish.

"Looks like Potter is getting tired," Bagman called. "If he's not careful, the dragon will catch him soon."

The stadium roared. It was just like in her dream. The bastards cheered for the dragon! They wanted Harry to be killed by the dragon!

A horrible, hot rage seized Daphne, but was immediately replaced by the coldness of her fear.

She screamed when she saw the flames of the dragon shoot at Harry, who had just gotten up again. He didn't look up, didn't see the fire. He didn't raise his wand, didn't conjure any shield!

The flames would hit him!

Full of panic, she opened her mind.

Inwardly cursing, Harry scrambled to his feet after dodging the dragon's tail. In his opinion, their cat-and-mouse game had been going on for far too long.

His entire body ached, and he also noticed that it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to concentrate. In this fight, every hundredth of a second mattered. Any hesitation could mean death. He therefore knew that he would have to finish it soon.

In the past few minutes, he'd been studying the dragon's movement patterns, which the creature probably didn't even know she had. He now thought he knew how the dragon would move. There should be another burst of flames he had to survive. Then another tail blow. After dodging it, he would have a few seconds. Then he would conjure his Patronus to distract the dragon. It would only take him a few seconds to get past the dragon. He was sure that he would make it. As soon as he got to the egg, it would be over. He just had to survive the next flames.

He didn't even need to look up; he knew the fire was coming at him. His arm, however, felt so sluggish as he tried to lift his wand. He realized that he wouldn't have time for a material conjuration. So, his air shield had to do it again.

Just in time, his shield solidified in front of him. Hot air streamed across his face as he fought against the blast. Another 115 seconds, he counted in his mind. 114 –

Suddenly, he also felt something other than the scorching heat. It was pleasant, cool and just intoxicating. The feeling promised relief for his troubled soul.

Harry knew this feeling all too well, since it came from the most important person in his life.

Daphne!

He felt Daphne's mind push against his mental barriers. A feeling of love overwhelmed him.

However, he also felt a terrible, all-destructive fear.

Just like in Daphne's nightmare.

It hurt him to put his lover in such a fear. Hadn't he promised to always be there for her?

He wanted to run, hug her, kiss her. He wanted her to laugh and be happy. He wanted to be happy with her.

But there was no happiness. No fulfilled life. Just pain and despair. And Daphne's fear, Daphne's awful, pervasive fear. It seized his entire being.

He had to go to Daphne!

Harry had to use all of his thought power to keep his spell going as he tore down his mental barriers.

It was like their previous unions. Their minds merged like day and night in the golden light of dawn. Their minds became one like a never-ending kiss. Harry was Daphne and Daphne was Harry.

It was exhilarating. Harry felt as if he could move mountains, as if he could set the world itself on fire. His hands clasped his wand. Together, they could just do anything.

Together, my demoness

It was as if Daphne's voice was coming from far away, which of course was completely impossible.

Together, my demon

Harry screamed, giving free reign to his emotions. It was a wonderful feeling. That was how unlimited freedom had to feel. They were the masters of the world!

He felt the feeling of power shoot through his body, through his outstretched arm into his wand. His arm and entire body trembled.

Suddenly, a tremendous shockwave broke out of the tip of his wand and hurled the flames back in the direction they had come from. The hit dragon screamed in pain.

But it wasn't enough! The dragon had to pay for what she had done to her Harry!

Wait – were those Daphne's thoughts? Or his own?

It didn't matter. They were one.

Harry pointed his wand at the roaring dragon. As if in a trance, he opened his mouth. A simultaneously melodic and hideous hiss resounded, initiating most ancient magic.

Harry felt the power of the spell leave his and Daphne's souls. It was much, much more intense than their previous attempts, but then again, they had never tried it on such a large creature.

The familiar smell of decay spread over the dance floor of life and death. And death took its toll.

A dark, impenetrable fog settled around the dragon, trashing her tail as if she could achieve anything with that. Her fate was sealed, and her life forfeited. This would happen to anyone who opposed them.

Soon they could no longer see the dragon in the fog, but they heard her terrible cries of pain, rotting alive. It was a sound that froze the blood in their veins. However, it was also the sound of their triumph.

They made it, Harry cheered. The beast would be dead soon and he could grab the golden egg. Then everything would be over. He would hug Daphne and kiss her long and without restraint. They would –

A sharp pain shot through Harry's body. All went black. He felt weak, just too weak, as if all his spirits had left him.

His connection to Daphne broke, even though Harry tried to clutch her mind in panic. But it was hopeless; like trying to catch air with your bare hands.

Everything became dull around him and he felt tired. So tired.

No!

He couldn't die like that, Harry screamed in his mind, as darkness spread over him.

Sheer horror gripped Dumbledore as he looked at the black fog. What despicable, devilish magic was that?

Hermione could no longer hold back. She leaned forward and threw up as the rankest smell she'd ever experienced penetrated her nose. It was as if they were surrounded by thousands of decaying corpses.

From everywhere, the choking noises of her classmates resounded. Her own vomit mingled with that of Ron and Neville next to her.

Suddenly, she felt something warm dripping in her neck. She looked up just to be hit in the face by Lavender's stomach contents.

Remus' scanty hair stood on end. The dragon's cries of pain were the most terrifying thing he had ever heard. And he had heard many horrible things in his life.

It was only when the screams fell silent, the fog cleared, and he could see a bare dragon's skull that he was able to think clearly again.

Harry!

His eyes searched for Harry and finally found him lying motionless on his back in the middle of the arena.

No! He couldn't be dead!

Remus jumped up and was about to run down when he saw Daphne slumped next to him too. Her face was deathly pale, and her eyes closed. Dumbledore's phoenix kept poking her hand, but she didn't move.

Panic was starting to overwhelm him.

The first thing Harry heard when he woke up was an excited babel of voices. Where was he? He could feel that he was lying on a hard mattress.

He tried to open his eyes but closed them immediately when bright light blinded him.

"Careful, Potter," came a voice that felt somehow familiar, even if he couldn't match it to anyone. He felt drained and exhausted; only lying strained him already. It felt like when he had woken up in Daphne's bedroom after using demonic magic for the first time.

Daphne!

With a jerk, Harry sat up and opened his eyes. All of a sudden, he remembered everything that had happened before he passed out. His connection to Daphne had broken. Did that mean –

"Where's Daphne?" he shouted, blinking wildly, as he recognized the face of Madam Pomfrey standing over him.

"Careful, Potter," she replied, trying to push him back onto the bed. "She's fine. She's right over there. But you should –"

Harry freed himself from her grip and jumped up. As fast as he could, he ran to the partition Madam Pomfrey had pointed to. Behind it he saw Daphne lying on a camp bed. Her skin was as white as snow and her hair shineless, but her chest rose and fell slowly. She lived!

Harry was at her side immediately and took her hand. He felt the blood flow through her veins.

"Mr. Potter!", an angry Madam Pomfrey called, planting herself in front of him. "I've said –"

"Is she okay?" Harry interrupted the matron. "Will she wake up?"

Madam Pomfrey paused and Harry felt like a hint of sympathy swept across her face.

"Miss Greengrass passed out," she said. "But otherwise she's fine. All that was probably too much for her. As with the dementors last year. But Potter, you really should –"

"No," Harry said. "I won't leave Daphne alone. I'm fine."

An uncomfortable silence lay between him and the healer as they heard the babel of voices from outside the hospital tent.

"Very well," Madam Pomfrey finally murmured. "As you will, Potter. But you should still rest, you have already done more than enough today. Not only did you kill a dragon, but apparently did so in a way that led to sudden nausea of hundreds of students. Even healers from St. Mungo's had to come to care for everyone. I've never seen so much vomit in my life. Unbelievable."

With that, she pushed a stool to the camp bed, on which Harry gratefully sat down. He still felt exhausted, but he would never leave Daphne alone.

Worried, he looked at her pale face as he gently squeezed her hand. Unpleasant memories came up in him; memories of Daphne lying in the hospital wing after their fight in the Chamber of Secrets. A great partner he was. Back then, he couldn't protect her from Voldemort's curse, and today he couldn't protect her from overexerting herself.

Just because she had been so afraid for him. He couldn't let her endanger herself as much as she had done today.

However, he also knew that Daphne would never stop rushing to his aid if she deemed it necessary. She would put herself in danger again and again because of him. Just like before, when she had connected her mind with his to cast the most powerful magic they had ever experienced.

She would always be by his side. And he loved her for that. Still, if they continued to use this magic, he had to make sure that their bond solidified, that they got the edge on the demonic magic instead of being overwhelmed by it.

He couldn't lose Daphne! She was his whole life! Without her, everything would be like the Dursleys again. He would be alone, completely alone in this world.

No, he had to find a way that they could stay together forever.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts when a long shadow fell over him. He raised his head, only to look straight into the headmaster's stoic face. Why did he always have to sneak up on him?

"Professor," Harry greeted the headmaster.

Dumbledore didn't respond. Rather, he seemed to be eyeing Harry from head to toe, as if he wasn't sure whether he was a human or alien.

Harry had no nerve for this bullshit. "What do you want?" he asked impatiently.

Dumbledore winced as if Harry had hit him in the stomach. He straightened his glasses and looked Harry in the eyes.

"I've come for several reasons," he said calmly, but without the warmth in his voice that usually characterized him. Harry already had an idea why this was the case. "First of all, I want to tell you your score for the task. You got five points."

That surprised Harry a little bit. He didn't really care about his score, but he would have expected more.

As if Dumbledore had guessed his thoughts, he continued, this time with audible disappointment. "It's so few points because you killed the dragon, made her destroy her eggs and you didn't even touch the golden egg. I gave you zero points."

Harry shrugged. He had known beforehand that he couldn't expect support from Dumbledore in this tournament, even if the other headmasters cheated and broke the rules. Dumbledore had never been able to help him, so why should it be any different this time?

He looked at Daphne and brushed a strand of hair from her face. Dumbledore hadn't been able to help her either. In the end, they were on their own, as always.

"Anything else?" he turned back to Dumbledore, who was still looking at him with an unfathomable expression.

"Yes," replied the headmaster. "What kind of magic was that you used?"

The question sounded harmless, but Harry recognized the meaning behind it. The spells they'd found in Valeydor and Valeydis' books were probably not magic that would be taught or endorsed at Hogwarts. He wasn't sure if it was dark – after all, he and Daphne weren't like Voldemort – but it was definitely not light either.

A smile crept around his lips. It made sense that you should always include a piece of truth in your lies.

"Oh, you know, professor," Harry responded with a shrug. "Taking your invisibility cloak with you to the Library of Alexandria comes with some advantages. So much knowledge there. So much fascinating knowledge and powerful magic."

"There is no magic like the one you used!" Dumbledore replied, upset. His voice had also grown louder. Interesting.

"How do you know?" asked Harry. "You are banned from going there. For good reason even, I heard. And who was your companion who –"

"That's not relevant," Dumbledore interrupted. There was no longer any sign of his usual calm. He was panting and his face had turned red. Suddenly, his hand snapped up and grabbed Harry by the arm with a strength he wouldn't have expected from the old Grand Sorcerer.

"I don't feel like accepting your constant falsehoods anymore!" Dumbledore hissed. "Since you've come to Hogwarts, you've only been lying. You don't care how others feel. You kill like it's nothing. I shudder when I see you. I don't want to imagine what James and Lily would think of you. You aren't –" Dumbledore stopped before finishing the sentence.

Harry's body burned. "What am I not?" he shouted, slapping Dumbledore's hand away. "What did you want to say?"

Angrily, he looked at Dumbledore, who in turn looked shocked, apparently startled by his own words. Harry's fist trembled. Oh, how he'd like to curse Dumbledore into the afterlife.

"Harry..." came suddenly a weak voice next to him.

Harry immediately spun around and looked back at Daphne's pale face, her beautiful blue eyes now open. She tried to sit up, though it was obvious that she was very weak.

"Daphne," Harry called, touching her shoulders. "Careful, love. All's well. The dragon is dead. I'm with you. Forever." Gently, he pushed Daphne back onto the bed as he whispered to her. When he looked up again, Dumbledore was gone.

Next chapter: King and Queen

Preview:

"You're a terrible dancer," Daphne grinned at him.

"Luckily, you dance as badly as I do," Harry replied, careful not to tread on his partner's feet. He noticed that Daphne was still grinning widely at him. "What?"

Daphne shook her head slightly, but her eyes were shining. "I can't help myself. I'm just happy."

AN:

How did you like the chapter? And what do you think the consequences of this chapter will be? Please tell me your opinion, I always read all your comments!