By the end of the next week, Harry had completed the armour he had planned. As ever, magic had speeded the tanning process for the baslisk hide, and aided immensely in cutting and sewing the pieces together. The armour consisted of pieces of leather strapped around the lower and upper arms and legs, and larger pieces around the chest, all hidden beneath robes. He had discovered why such armour was not more commonly worn. While the leather offered excellent protection against spellfire, it was also heavy and a little bulky. The added weight and change of balance threw off wand movements and slightly slowed reaction times. It would take constant practice to get used to.

Luckily, he was getting that practice while at school, before the habits had gotten firmly seated. He would wear the armour all day to get used to the weight, and alternate wearing it for his evening spell practice. In this way he hoped to be fully capable whether wearing the protection or not. He had considered making a set of combat robes as well, but Hermione and Luna had told him they were taking care of that.

Eventually the day of the first task arrived. Before heading down to breakfast the three of them met in the room they had commandeered, and Harry was presented with the robes. On the face of it they were plain and dull, being made of undyed cotton. Closer inspection revealed intricate runework stitched in acromantula silk. Some of the runes Harry could easily identify - fire proofing, temperature control, generic runes of protection and luck. Other schemes were more complex, and while he could pick out individual runes the overall effect was a mystery to him.

"This scheme makes sure the robes don't get in your way." Said Hermione. "It seems to reduce the friction so they will just flow out of the way. We mimicked the charm we think Snape uses to make his robes billow so dramatically."

"And this one anchors an illusion over them. So you can make them look like whatever you want!" Luna said, before pressing her wand to a cluster of runes on the breast of the robes. They turned a deep crimson, while on the back a phoenix arose from flickering flames.

"Awesome..." Harry whispered, then drew the two girls into a hug. "Thank you both, these are amazing!"

"It was no problem. We learnt so much making them! Now, shall we head down? We've just got time for breakfast before the weighing of the wands, and then you get to face a dragon. Thank goodness Moody warned you!"

The Weighing of the Wands had been planned originally as an event some days before the first task, until some wise soul had pointed out that it would make more sense to check just before the task. The organisers had roped in Mr. Ollivander, though Harry had to wonder whether it was the wisest move from a diplomatic standpoint. The wandmaker was rather abrasive when it came to quality of the foreign contestant's wands. Eventually he came to Harry.

"Ah, Holly and Phoenix feather..." He said, holding the wand almost reverently between his two hands. "As I said before, we can expect great things from you, and great things you have achieved. But the greatest were not with this wand... May I see the knife you bear?"

Harry considered the wandmaker for a minute, then slowly withdrew the blade from its sheathe, and placed it upon the table. Mr. Ollivander inspected it closely, then reached out a hand. "May I?"

Harry nodded, and the craftsman clasped his hand around the hilt, a look of concentration on his face.

"Incredible..." He said. "Basilisk fang and venom from the beast slain by your hand. Bound to you and your kin. There is a ward here I cannot comprehend, yet I suspect it is related to Parseltongue. It goes against every principle of wandcrafting. There is no balance, and yet it is a most formidable weapon. I fully expect that in centuries to come it may well be mentioned alongside the Sword of Gryffindor and the Deathstick. I can only imagine what you could achieve with the spoils of your victory were you trained as I am. You are aware that only you can make full use of those parts?"

"I am. I was rather suprised when I found out about the importance of context in magical creations. The idea that a potion made by my hand could be more effective for me than for anyone else just seemed weird."

"Indeed. It is not an aspect of magic that is emphasised nowadays. Now, I believe Mr Bagman is ready to continue the proceedings."

As Harry returned the knife to its sheathe, he looked around the tent to find that his fellow contestants and the tournament organisers were staring at him.

"Ah, yes, well. The task!" Mr Bagman happily burbled. "You are to collect the golden egg guarded by a dragon, and we will decide the order you go in by drawing from this bag."

First up would be Cedric with a Swedish Short-Snout. Fleur Delacour drew forth a miniature Welsh Green with the number two on it. Next would be Krum with a Chinese Fireball, and finally Harry with a Hungarian Horntail. As the other contestants proceeded with their tasks, he paced the now empty tent, running over the plan and the backup plan, The main plan was to distract the beast with a transfigured cow and sneak past. The backup plan was to use his enhanced strength and speed to make a dash for it. Hermione had allowed that using his enhancements was acceptable considering the unfairness of his inclusion in the competition.

Eventually, his name was called, and he stepped out of the tent. The vast dragon was chained in the center of a vast bowl shaped arena, scattered with large boulders. Harry looked around, spying out the lie of the land. There were three suitably placed boulders he could transfigure. The chain on the dragon restricted the dragon to two thirds of the radius of the arena. And the dragon appeared very, very agitated.

He slowly walked forward, then made a quick dash to the cover of a boulder. The horntail's head snapped around in his direction. As he poked himself out from the cover of his rock to transfigure the first cow, the dragon gave a great beat of its wings. It was then that disaster struck. From behind, Harry felt a fizzing crackle, then a sharp crack that resonated in the peculiar half-sense he associated with his magic. And in front of him, the chain that bound the great dragon disintegrated. The dragon was free, and in an obvious rage.

The beast lunged forwards towards one of the stands of spectators, only to stumble in flight as it hit the wards that had been raised around the arena. With a great bellow of pain it unleashed a gout of flame that thankfully passed to the left of the stand. As Harry stood in shock, he saw the team of dragon handlers attempt to stun the tumbling horntail, only to have their spells reflected by the ward.

Harry shook himself, and activated every one of his enhancements. Thinking quickly, he cast a sonorous.

"Headmaster, how long to take down the wards?"

"Damn." Dumbledore muttered, evaluating what he saw through his enchanted glasses. "Fifteen, twenty minutes, minimum. Too long. Can you bring it down?"

"Maybe. I'll be going all out. Any stray spells will be deadly - physical shields only!"

By this point the horntail had tumbled to the arena floor next to the ward boundary, and was in the process of righting itself. Harry's knife snapped into his hand, and he pumped out a trio of piercing spells. He didn't expect much damage, but they should distract the dragon from flaming the spectators outside the wards. And he was right. The spells hit the flank of the great wyrm, but did little more than raise a pinprick of blood. They also alerted the dragon to the presence of the human who had fired the bright red spells.

$Venom$ he hissed, releasing the wards that kept the basilisk fang blade safe. This time he sent just a single spell, a powerful flame cutter in a narrow arc. As the dragon brought its head around and started to charge him, the spell caught it a glancing blow. The shallow gash led down its cheek and flank and just clipped the corner of the beast's eye, the wound hissing and bubbling for a moment from the poisonous heat of the spell.

A great screeching bellow of pain erupted from the horntail as it charged towards Harry, belching a gout of flame towards him. He stood his ground, trusting to the potent flame freezing charms embedded in his robes, and pushed out a trio of the reinforcing shockwave spells that had levelled Malfoy Manor. The shockwave's hammer blow crashed into a wing, but did little to stem the dragon's onslaught, forcing him to use his enhanced strength and speed to leap out of its path.

What he hadn't paid attention to was the whipping spiked tail, which smashed into him as the dragon thundered past. Luckily his basilisk hide armour held under the blow, but the impact sent him towards towards the center of the rocky arena. From his new vantage point he could see better see the state of the beast's left side, which had taken the brunt of the damage he had dealt. The bright red dots of his initial spells stood out against the dark hide, underscored by a livid gash. The clearly broken wing hung limply, and the creature's left eye was having trouble moving.

And now he had a choice to make. On the one hand he could try to carry on as he had, keep his distance and wear it down. The way his spells were enhanced as they passed through the venom on the blade meant that they would at least do some damage to the creature. But it would take a lot to bring it down, and any stray spells would endanger the crowd. On the other hand he could get in close and try to do some damage with the blade itself. Stabbing through the hide and casting a spell within the dragon would cause massive damage. But to do so he would have to get into range of the deadly claws and flailing tail. If his blade got stuck in the thick hide, he could find himself in huge trouble.

He rapidly made up his mind - a quick and decisive end was more his style. He began his dash forwards, this time paying attention to the tail. He nimbly jumped over a small rock in his path, then threw himself into roll under the tail. Before the creature could complete its turn towards him, he was in close, running behind the limp wing. He timed a powerful cutting spell with a slash at its rear leg, and was rewarded with a deep wound that made the limb buckle under the strain. His slash had not fully penetrated the hide, but it was enough for the spell to punch deep inside. Seizing the opportunity he grabbed hold of the hanging wing, hauling himself upwards. With a quick scrabble he was lying half astride the beast. A rapid punch with his knife gave a crude handhold, which he was thankful for as the dragon pushed up with its front legs, half rearing, and gave another great bellow. The damage to its rear leg restricted the manoeuvre though, and Harry was able to keep his hold. A pulse of magic gouged a great hole in the creature and he was able to pull the blade free.

The dragon was moving slower now, the attempt at shaking him off having further damaged its rear leg. Seeing an opening, Harry scrambled up towards its neck, and slammed the blade down before unleashing a powerful cutter. The knife and spell severed the dragon's spinal cord, ripped through muscle and tissue and tore open the hide of its throat from the inside out. With a great spasm the beast shuddered and collapsed to the ground, vanquished.

Harry slowly picked himself up from where he had tumbled in the creature's collapse, and one by one he deactivated his runic enhancements. Feeling weak and wearied from the expenditure of magic, he slowly made his way over to the nest and picked up the golden egg. His task achieved, he tiredly sat himself on a boulder and looked around at the stadium.

I know it's been a long time since I updated. I got a lovely review from Xenia Silverfang that really made me smile, so I decided to take another look at it. I then realised that I had another chapter written that hadn't yet been posted. So here you go. Whether I will continue beyond this, I don't know. Part of the problem is that I don't really have a plot in mind - the story is really a collection of set-pieces that I've managed to link together. I have some ideas that could be used, but I don't know how to get from here to there.

Something I know I quite like is if, when abandoning a story, an author lays out how it could have progressed to a conclusion. So here goes:

Harry gets out of having to open the Yule Ball, and doesn't take anyone. Luna asks Hermione - much fluff ensues, and a really sweet kiss.

Ron is Harry's hostage for the second task, and it proceeds like canon.

Harry stomps all over the third task. The trophy was set to stun the schmuck who activated the portkey. Voldemort is resurrected using Harry's blood, but the rituals performed by Harry rob it of its magical properties when not willingly given. When an arrogant Voldemort forces Harry to duel, Harry open up with a wide-angle flame-cutter that takes out most of the watching death eaters. Voldemort blocks it with a physical shield, but is too weak to put up much resistance in the duel that follows.

Dumbledore and Harry take care of the remaining Horcruxes at their leisure.

Twenty years later, Luna and Hermione are still together. They live with an asexual but very cuddly Harry. They are among the first to marry when it is legalised. When Dumbledore finally croaks, he leaves them a very much not destroyed philosopher's stone. The trio live in fluffy happiness, fading from the public eye.

And then the Turians invade Shanxi, but that's another story...