The First Task

It was the Saturday before the first task and all the students third year and up were allowed to visit the village of Hogsmeade. Hermione told Harry getting out would do him good and he had to agree that one afternoon away from the accusing stares of his fellow students would be nice.

There was one problem though, one big, red-haired problem.
Ron.

"I thought, we could meet up with him in the Three Broomsticks," Hermione said, flushing slightly.

Harry flat-out rejected it, "No."

"Oh, Harry. This is so stupid –"

"Stupid, am I? Go then! Go meet up with Ron for all I care! I don't need you, I –" Harry stopped his rant when he realised Hermione's eyes started watering.

"You... you don't need me?" she said in a weak voice, beginning to sob.

"I didn't mean that, oh, no, never... I mean... you're my best friend Hermione, and –"

"Harry?" her soft voice interrupted his panicking rant. "Just let me cry a bit on your shoulder, okay?"

He could do that, he thought. Girls were mental... nice, but mental. They never made it to Hogsmeade that day, instead Hermione all but dragged him to the library to study the possible tasks more. At least in the library the only annoyance was Krum and his harem of fan-girls, nobody bothered them there over Skeeter's stupid article in the Daily Prophet.

Sunday came and went, with only a chat with Sirius through the fire to cheer Harry up. Sadly Sirius had no idea what the first task could be about, either. Harry didn't even get to speak with him for long as Ron came down, demanding to know what Harry was doing... Harry all but exploded at Ron for causing Sirius to break off the link.

Monday was another day where any time he was not in class, he spent in the library with his best – and currently only – friend.
"Hermione, this is hopeless... I don't even know what I'll be facing. Could be another Basilisk, for all I know!"

"Honestly Harry, don't be ridiculous," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "The Ministry is not insane enough to pit a number of child... students up against a deadly creature like that. You heard Professor Dumbledore, it will be safe."

"If you say so," Harry agreed, allowing his shoulders to droop as he slumped down in his chair some more. "Come on. Herbology is next. Who knows, maybe they'll have me go up against a Venomous Tentacula or something..."

"Oh, Harry..." Hermione patted his hand in sympathy before they left. Sure they would be early, but anything would help get Harry's mind off the task the next day.

Finally Tuesday arrived, the day of the first task... whatever it might be. Harry felt like he often did prior to a Quidditch match, only ten times worse. Listlessly he stared at his breakfast, not having an appetite for anything.

"Harry, you must eat something," Hermione prompted. More to placate her than to satisfy his hunger, he bit down on some toast.

History of Magic was hardly the optimal class to open his last day before the task and he couldn't even keep his attention on the wandwork in Transfiguration, normally one of his favourite classes. Fortunately Professor McGonagall seemed to understand he was under a lot of stress for she didn't call on him all day. At least he wouldn't need to go to Potions after lunch... the task was next.

"Cedric looks worried, too," Hermione commented as she tried to get Harry to eat something again. "I don't see Krum or Delacour anywhere, they must be getting some last minute instructions."

"More like a last meal," Harry muttered.

"Stop it, Harry. You'll do great, I'm sure of it."

"But what if I –" Harry began to protest, only to be silenced when Professor McGonagall hurried over to him. Harry felt the entire Great Hall watching him.

"Potter, you have to come down into the grounds now. The first task is starting soon."

Harry saw that Cedric had already left. "OK," he simply said. He stood up, trying to calm his nerves. His fork dropped onto his plate with such a loud clatter it made him wince.

"You'll be fine, Harry. Good luck," Hermione whispered.

Harry shot her a weak smile. It took all his might not to tremble as he followed Professor McGonagall.

Vaguely he recognised she was trying to say encouraging words to him as she lead him to a place near the edge of the Forest. A tent had been erected at the entrance to an enclosure, hiding what he would be facing from view.

Harry stepped inside. Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner, looking absolutely terrified. Viktor Krum's expression was hard to read, but Harry assumed the Bulgarian Seeker was either furious, or anxious. Cedric was pacing up and down, not even stopping one moment as Harry entered.

"Harry! Good-oh, that's everyone!" said Bagman happily. The overweight former Quidditch star seemed happy to have Harry in particular in the tent. Bagman blabbered on and on about how they would be facing one of several varieties, but the only thing of import Harry registered was that they had to get a Golden Egg. He nodded when he saw the others do do, satisfying the rotund man as he assumed that they'd all understood.

Harry understood nothing yet. He wished Hermione was allowed to be there, she might be able to figure it out...
The noise of the entire student body passing by the tent on their way to the stands shook him from his thoughts. It was time.

"Ladies first," Bagman said. He had a purple silk sack in his hands which he now opened slightly, allowing Fleur to reach in. Harry saw that her hand was shaking as she reached in, but he was really surprised by what she took out... a small model of a dragon.

"Dragons?" Harry yelled out. "We... we have to face dragons?"

Panicking, he whipped his head around. Cedric looked pale enough that he could almost be a vampire, Harry wasn't even sure the boy was still breathing. But Krum and Delacour looked, relatively, composed.

"You knew!" Harry yelled, pointing at the girl who still had the dragon model in hand.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry! Nobody could've known, the secrecy was perfect," Bagman said, breaking the silence as Harry glared at the two visitors.
"Now, Mr. Krum, why don't you go next?"

All the bluster left Harry as he collapsed back in his chair. Dragons. He had to face a dragon. He didn't even notice what kind of dragon Krum drew out, or that it and Delacour's model had a number attached.

"Harry? Your turn," Bagman said. Harry looked up again and saw Cedric was nearly catatonic, staring down at the model of a blue dragon with a number 'one'.

Harry's hand was trembling so badly he almost couldn't force it in the bag. As soon as his fingers disappeared inside something bit him and with a yelp, he threw up his hand. Dangling from his index finger was a model of a furious looking dragon with a 'four' on it.

"The Hungarian Horntail, the most fierce of all dragons," Bagman said. "Oho, this will be quite a show indeed!"

Harry was still shaking his hand to get the model to let go and finally it fell on his lap. The model dragon was glaring at him while Harry looked down.

"Feeling quite all right, Harry?" Bagman crouched down before him, finally seeming to realize something was up. "Anything I can get you?"

"Dragon..." was all Harry said.

"Err... you do have a plan, don't you? I don't mind sharing a few pointers, if you'd like, you know –" A whistle suddenly blew, interrupting Bagman. "Good Lord, I have to run!" he jumped up, and ran outside.

Cedric still seemed comatose. Harry understood how the Hufflepuff must've felt... he was sure he was going to die, himself. Dragons.

A whistle blew, then Bagman's magically amplified voice called for Cedric to leave the tent. Unsteadily he walked out, not looking back at his fellow champions, and then there was nothing Harry could do but listen to Bagman's commentary, the roar of the crowd, the roar of a dragon, and imagine horrible things happening to his fellow student.

"Oooh... that is unfortunate. He almost made it!" Bagman shouted after a while. "While the brave handlers restrain the dragon, can we have the scores please, judges?"

The scores were not yelled out, leaving the remaining students in suspense, at least until Bagman called for, "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Fleur trembled and shot Harry an apologetic look as she stepped outside. Again, the sound was forcing Harry to imagine the worst happening, but this time Bagman sounded far more excited as he called out, "And she takes the Egg! Wonderful, wonderful indeed!"

Krum was looking straight forward as the whistle called him next, not sparing Harry a glance as he left the tent.

'I am going to die, I am going to die,' ran through Harry's head.

"Viktor Krum takes the Egg, in the fastest time yet!" Bagman called out. Harry swallowed, he was up next.

Waiting for the final call was the worst of all. 'I can't die, not here, not like this. I... I haven't ever even kissed a girl,' Harry thought. He held on to the arms of his chair with such force that his knuckles turned white. 'Mum... dad... I'm sorry, for everything..., I –'

The whistle blew again. It was time.

A/N: Written for the QLFC round 4, 'Getting Those Feelings Out'. My emotion (and forbidden word) is Scared.