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Chapter 20 The First Task

Harry got up on Sunday morning and dressed so inattentively that it was a while before he realized he was trying to pull his hat onto his foot instead of his sock. When he'd finally got all his clothes on the right parts of his body, he hurried off to find Hermione, locating her at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, where she was eating breakfast with Ginny. Feeling too queasy to eat, Harry waited until Hermione had swallowed her last spoonful of porridge, then dragged her out onto the grounds. There, he told her all about the dragons, and about everything Sirius had said, while they took another long walk around the lake.

Alarmed as she was by Sirius's warnings about Karkaroff, Hermione still thought that the dragons were the more pressing problem.

“Let's just try and keep you alive until Tuesday evening,” she said desperately, “and then we can worry about Karkaroff.”

They walked three times around the lake, trying all the way to think of a simple spell that would subdue a dragon. Nothing whatsoever occurred to them, so they retired to the library instead. Here, Harry pulled down every book he could find on dragons, and both of them set to work searching through the large pile.

“Talon-clipping by charms…treating scale-rot…’ This is no good, this is for nutters like Hagrid who want to keep them healthy…”

“Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate…’ But Sirius said a simple one would do it…”

“Let's try some simple spellbooks, then,” said Harry, throwing aside Men Who Love Dragons Too Much.

He returned to the table with a pile of spellbooks, set them down, and began to flick through each in turn, Hermione whispering nonstop at his elbow.

“Well, there are Switching Spells…but what's the point of Switching it? Unless you swapped its fangs for wine-gums or something that would make it less dangerous.…The trouble is, like that book said, not much is going to get through a dragon's hide.…I'd say Transfigure it, but something that big, you really haven't got a hope, I doubt even Professor McGonagall…unless you're supposed to put the spell on yourself? Maybe to give yourself extra powers? But they're not simple spells, I mean, we haven't done any of those in class, I only know about them because I've been doing O.W.L. practice papers.…”

“Hermione,” Harry said, through gritted teeth, “will you shut up for a bit, please? I m trying to concentrate.”

But all that happened, when Hermione fell silent, was that Harry's brain filled with a sort of blank buzzing, which didn't seem to allow room for concentration. He stared hopelessly down the index of Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed. Instant scalping…but dragons had no hair…pepper breath…that would probably increase a dragon's firepower…horn tongue…just what he needed, to give it an extra weapon…

“Oh no, he's back again, why can't he read on his stupid ship?” said Hermione irritably as Viktor Krum slouched in, cast a surly look over at the pair of them, and settled himself in a distant corner with a pile of books. “Come on, Harry, we'll go back to the common room…his fan club'll be here in a moment, twittering away….”

And sure enough, as they left the library, a gang of girls tiptoed past them, one of them wearing a Bulgaria scarf tied around her waist.

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Harry barely slept that night. When he awoke on Monday morning, he seriously considered for the first time ever just running away from Hogwarts. But as he looked around the Great Hall at breakfast time, and thought about what leaving the castle would mean, he knew he couldn't do it. It was the only place he had ever been happy…well, he supposed he must have been happy with his parents too, but he couldn't remember that.

Somehow, the knowledge that he would rather be here and facing a dragon than back on Privet Drive with Dudley was good to know; it made him feel slightly calmer. He finished his bacon with difficulty (his throat wasn't working too well), and as he and Hermione got up, he saw Cedric Diggory leaving the Hufflepuff table.

Cedric still didn't know about the dragons…the only champion who didn't, if Harry was right in thinking that Maxime and Karkaroff would have told Fleur and Krum.…

“Hermione, I'll see you in the greenhouses,” Harry said, coming to his decision as he watched Cedric leaving the Hall. “Go on, I'll catch you up.”

“Harry, you'll be late, the bell's about to ring -”

“I'll catch you up, okay?”

By the time Harry reached the bottom of the marble staircase, Cedric was at the top. He was with a load of sixth-year friends. Harry didn't want to talk to Cedric in front of them; they were among those who had been quoting Rita Skeeter's article at him every time he went near them. He followed Cedric at a distance and saw that he was heading toward the Charms corridor. This gave Harry an idea. Pausing at a distance from them, he pulled out his wand, and took careful aim.

“Diffindo!”

Cedric's bag split. Parchment, quills, and books spilled out of it onto the floor. Several bottles of ink smashed.

“Don't bother,” said Cedric in an exasperated voice as his friends bent down to help him. “Tell Flitwick I'm coming, go on…”

This was exactly what Harry had been hoping for. He slipped his wand back into his robes, waited until Cedric's friends had disappeared into their classroom, and hurried up the corridor, which was now empty of everyone but himself and Cedric.

“Hi,” said Cedric, picking up a copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration that was now splattered with ink. “My bag just split…brand-new and all…”

“Cedric,” said Harry, “the first task is dragons.”

“What?” said Cedric, looking up.

“Dragons,” said Harry, speaking quickly, in case Professor Flitwick came out to see where Cedric had got to. “They've got four, one for each of us, and we've got to get past them.”

Cedric stared at him. Harry saw some of the panic he'd been feeling since Saturday night flickering in Cedric's gray eyes.

“Are you sure?” Cedric said in a hushed voice.

“Dead sure,” said Harry. “I've seen them.”

“But how did you find out? We're not supposed to know.…”

“Never mind,” said Harry quickly - he knew Hagrid would be in trouble if he told the truth. “But I'm not the only one who knows. Fleur and Krum will know by now - Maxime and Karkaroff both saw the dragons too.”

Cedric straightened up, his arms full of inky quills, parchment, and books, his ripped bag dangling off one shoulder. He stared at Harry, and there was a puzzled, almost suspicious look in his eyes.

“Why are you telling me?” he asked.

Harry looked at him in disbelief. He was sure Cedric wouldn't have asked that if he had seen the dragons himself. Harry wouldn't have let his worst enemy face those monsters unprepared - well, perhaps Malfoy or Snape.…

“It's just…fair, isn't it?” he said to Cedric. “We all know now…we're on an even footing, aren't we?”

Cedric was still hooking at him in a slightly suspicious way when Harry heard a familiar clunking noise behind him. He turned around and saw Mad-Eye Moody emerging from a nearby classroom.

“Come with me, Potter,” he growled. “Diggory, off you go.”

Harry stared apprehensively at Moody. Had he overheard them?

“Er - Professor, I'm supposed to be in Herbology -”

“Never mind that, Potter. In my office, please…”

Harry followed him, wondering what was going to happen to him now. What if Moody wanted to know how he'd found out about the dragons? Would Moody go to Dumbledore and tell on Hagrid, or just turn Harry into a ferret? Well, it might be easier to get past a dragon if he were a ferret, Harry thought dully, he'd be smaller, much less easy to see from a height of fifty feet.…

He followed Moody into his office. Moody closed the door behind them and turned to look at Harry, his magical eye fixed upon him as well as the normal one.

“That was a very decent thing you just did, Potter,” Moody said quietly.

Harry didn't know what to say; this wasn't the reaction he had expected at all.

“Sit down,” said Moody, and Harry sat, looking around.

He had visited this office under two of its previous occupants. In Professor Lockhart's day, the walls had been plastered with beaming, winking pictures of Professor Lockhart himself. When Lupin had lived here, you were more likely to come across a specimen of some fascinating new Dark creature he had procured for them to study in class. Now, however, the office was full of a number of exceptionally odd objects that Harry supposed Moody had used in the days when he had been an Auror.

On his desk stood what looked hike a large, cracked, glass spinning top; Harry recognized it at once as a Sneakoscope, because he owned one himself, though it was much smaller than Moody's. In the corner on a small table stood an object that looked something like an extra-squiggly, golden television aerial. It was humming slightly. What appeared to be a mirror hung opposite Harry on the wall, but it was not reflecting the room. Shadowy figures were moving around inside it, none of them clearly in focus.

“Like my Dark Detectors, do you?” said Moody, who was watching Harry closely.

“What's that?” Harry asked, pointing at the squiggly golden aerial.

“Secrecy Sensor. Vibrates when it detects concealment and lies…no use here, of course, too much interference - students in every direction lying about why they haven't done their homework. Been humming ever since I got here. I had to disable my Sneakoscope because it wouldn't stop whistling. It's extra-sensitive, picks up stuff about a mile around. Of course, it could be picking up more than kid stuff,” he added in a growl.

“And what's the mirror for?”

“Oh that's my Foe-Glass. See them out there, skulking around? I'm not really in trouble until I see the whites of their eyes. That's when I open my trunk.”

He let out a short, harsh laugh, and pointed to the large trunk under the window. It had seven keyholes in a row. Harry wondered what was in there, until Moody's next question brought him sharply back to earth.

“So…found out about the dragons, have you?”

Harry hesitated. He'd been afraid of this - but he hadn't told Cedric, and he certainly wasn't going to tell Moody, that Hagrid had broken the rules.

“It's all right,” said Moody, sitting down and stretching out his wooden leg with a groan. “Cheating's a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and always has been.”

“I didn't cheat,” said Harry sharply. “It was - a sort of accident that I found out.”

Moody grinned. “I wasn't accusing you, laddie. I've been telling Dumbledore from the start, he can be as high-minded as he likes, but you can bet old Karkaroff and Maxime won't be. They'll have told their champions everything they can. They want to win. They want to beat Dumbledore. They'd like to prove he's only human.”

Moody gave another harsh laugh, and his magical eye swiveled around so fast it made Harry feel queasy to watch it.

“So…got any ideas how you're going to get past your dragon yet?” said Moody.

“No,” said Harry.

“Well, I'm not going to tell you,” said Moody gruffly. “I don't show favoritism, me. I'm just going to give you some good, general advice. And the first bit is - play to your strengths.”

“I haven't got any,” said Harry, before he could stop himself.

“Excuse me,” growled Moody, “you've got strengths if I say you've got them. Think now. What are you best at?”

Harry tried to concentrate. What was he best at? Well, that was easy, really -

“Quidditch,” he said dully, “and a fat lot of help -”

“That's right,” said Moody, staring at him very hard, his magical eye barely moving at all. “You're a damn good flier from what I've heard.”

“Yeah, but…” Harry stared at him. “I'm not allowed a broom, I've only got my wand…”

“My second piece of general advice,” said Moody loudly, interrupting him, “is to use a nice, simple spell that will enable you to get what you need.”

Harry looked at him blankly. What did he need?

“Come on, boy…” whispered Moody. “Put them together…it's not that difficult…”

And it clicked. He was best at flying. He needed to pass the dragon in the air. For that, he needed his Firebolt. And for his Fire-bolt, he needed -

     *     *     *     *     *     *

“Hermione,” Harry whispered, when he had sped into greenhouse three minutes later, uttering a hurried apology to Professor Sprout as he passed her. “Hermione - I need you to help me.”

“What d'you think I've been trying to do, Harry?” she whispered back, her eyes round with anxiety over the top of the quivering Flutterby Bush she was pruning.

“Hermione, I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon.”

And so they practiced. They didn't have lunch, but headed for a free classroom, where Harry tried with all his might to make various objects fly across the room toward him. He was still having problems. The books and quills kept losing heart halfway across the room and dropping hike stones to the floor.

“Concentrate, Harry, concentrate.…”

“What d'you think I'm trying to do?” said Harry angrily. “A great big dragon keeps popping up in my head for some reason…Okay, try again…”

He wanted to skip Divination to keep practicing, but Hermione refused point-blank to skive off Arithmancy, and there was no point in staying without her. He therefore had to endure over an hour of Professor Trelawney, who spent half the lesson telling everyone that the position of Mars with relation to Saturn at that moment meant that people born in July were in great danger of sudden, violent deaths.

“Well, that's good,” said Harry loudly, his temper getting the better of him, “just as long as it's not drawn-out. I don't want to suffer.”

Ron looked for a moment as though he was going to laugh; he certainly caught Harry's eye for the first time in days, but Harry was still feeling too resentful toward Ron to care. He spent the rest of the lesson trying to attract small objects toward him under the table with his wand. He managed to make a fly zoom straight into his hand, though he wasn't entirely sure that was his prowess at Summoning Charms - perhaps the fly was just stupid.

He forced down some dinner after Divination, then returned to the empty classroom with Hermione, using the Invisibility Cloak to avoid the teachers. They kept practicing until past midnight. They would have stayed longer, but Peeves turned up and, pretending to think that Harry wanted things thrown at him, started chucking chairs across the room. Harry and Hermione left in a hurry before the noise attracted Filch, and went back to the Gryffindor common room, which was now mercifully empty.

At two o'clock in the morning, Harry stood near the fireplace, surrounded by heaps of objects: books, quills, several upturned chairs, an old set of Gobstones, and Neville's toad, Trevor. Only in the last hour had Harry really got the hang of the Summoning Charm.

“That's better, Harry, that's loads better,” Hermione said, looking exhausted but very pleased.

“Well, now we know what to do next time I can't manage a spell,” Harry said, throwing a rune dictionary back to Hermione, so he could try again, “threaten me with a dragon. Right…” He raised his wand once more. “Accio Dictionary!”

The heavy book soared out of Hermione's hand, flew across the room, and Harry caught it.

“Harry, I really think you've got it!” said Hermione delightedly.

“Just as long as it works tomorrow,” Harry said. “The Firebolt's going to be much farther away than the stuff in here, it's going to be in the castle, and I'm going to be out there on the grounds…”

“That doesn't matter,” said Hermione firmly.” Just as long as you're concentrating really, really hard on it, it'll come. Harry, we'd better get some sleep…you're going to need it.”

     *     *     *     *     *     *

Harry had been focusing so hard on learning the Summoning Charm that evening that some of his blind panic had heft him. It returned in full measure, however, on the following morning. The atmosphere in the school was one of great tension and excitement. Lessons were to stop at midday, giving all the students time to get down to the dragons’ enclosure - though of course, they didn't yet know what they would find there.

Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him, whether they were wishing him good luck or hissing “We'll have a box of tissues ready, Potter” as he passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he mightn't just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight. Time was behaving in a more peculiar fashion than ever, rushing past in great dollops, so that one moment he seemed to be sitting down in his first lesson, History of Magic, and the next, walking into lunch…and then (where had the morning gone? the last of the dragon-free hours?), Professor McGonagall was hurrying over to him in the Great Hall. Lots of people were watching.

“Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now.…You have to get ready for your first task.”

“Okay,” said Harry, standing up, his fork falling onto his plate with a clatter.

“Good luck, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “You'll be fine!”

“Yeah,” said Harry in a voice that was most unlike his own.

He heft the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall. She didn't seem herself either; in fact, she looked nearly as anxious as Hermione. As she walked him down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, she put her hand on his shoulder.

“Now, don't panic,” she said, “just keep a cool head.…We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand.…The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you.…Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Harry heard himself say. “Yes, I'm fine.”

She was leading him toward the place where the dragons were, around the edge of the forest, but when they approached the clump of trees behind which the enclosure would be clearly visible, Harry saw that a tent had been erected, its entrance facing them, screening the dragons from view.

“You're to go in here with the other champions,” said Professor McGonagall, in a rather shaky sort of voice, “and wait for your turn, Potter. Mr. Bagman is in there…he'll be telling you the - the procedure.… Good luck.”

“Thanks,” said Harry, in a flat, distant voice. She left him at the entrance of the tent. Harry went inside.

Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a how wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Harry supposed was his way of showing nerves. Cedric was pacing up and down. When Harry entered, Cedric gave him a small smile, which Harry returned, feeling the muscles in his face working rather hard, as though they had forgotten how to do it.

“Harry! Good-o!” said Bagman happily, looking around at him. “Come in, come in, make yourself at home!”

Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again.

“Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!” said Bagman brightly. “When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag” - he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them - “from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too…ah, yes…your task is to collect the golden egg!”

Harry glanced around. Cedric had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then started pacing around the tent again; he looked slightly green. Fleur Delacour and Krum hadn't reacted at all. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths; that was certainly how Harry felt. But they, at least, had volunteered for this…

And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking.…Harry felt as separate from the crowd as though they were a different species. And then - it seemed like about a second later to Harry - Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.

“Ladies first,” he said, offering it to Fleur Delacour.

She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon - a Welsh Green. It had the number two around its neck And Harry knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that he had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.

The same held true for Krum. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number three around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came the blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number one tied around its neck. Knowing what was left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number four. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

“Well, there you are!” said Bagman. “You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now…Harry…could I have a quick word? Outside?”

“Er…yes,” said Harry blankly, and he got up and went out of the tent with Bagman, who walked him a short distance away, into the trees, and then turned to him with a fatherly expression on his face.

“Feeling all right, Harry? Anything I can get you?”

“What?” said Harry. “I - no, nothing.”

“Got a plan?” said Bagman, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Because I don't mind sharing a few pointers, if you'd like them, you know. I mean,” Bagman continued, lowering his voice still further, “you're the underdog here, Harry.…Anything I can do to help…”

“No,” said Harry so quickly he knew he had sounded rude, “no - I - I know what I'm going to do, thanks.”

“Nobody would know, Harry,” said Bagman, winking at him.

“No, I'm fine,” said Harry, wondering why he kept telling people this, and wondering whether he had ever been less fine. “I've got a plan worked out, I -”

A whistle had blown somewhere.

“Good lord, I've got to run!” said Bagman in alarm, and he hurried off.

Harry walked back to the tent and saw Cedric emerging from it, greener than ever. Harry tried to wish him luck as he walked past, but all that came out of his mouth was a sort of hoarse grunt.

Harry went back inside to Fleur and Krum. Seconds hater, they heard the roar of the crowd, which meant Cedric had entered the enclosure and was now face-to-face with the living counterpart of his model.…

It was worse than Harry could ever have imagined, sitting there and listening. The crowd screamed…yelled…gasped like a single many-headed entity, as Cedric did whatever he was doing to get past the Swedish Short-Snout. Krum was still staring at the ground. Fleur had now taken to retracing Cedric's steps, around and around the tent. And Bagman's commentary made everything much, much worse.…Horrible pictures formed in Harry's mind as he heard: “Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow"… “He's taking risks, this one!"…"Clever move - pity it didn't work!”

And then, after about fifteen minutes, Harry heard the deafening roar that could mean only one thing: Cedric had gotten past his dragon and captured the golden egg.

“Very good indeed!” Bagman was shouting. “And now the marks from the judges!”

But he didn't shout out the marks; Harry supposed the judges were holding them up and showing them to the crowd.

“One down, three to go!” Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. “Miss Delacour, if you please!”

Fleur was trembling from head to foot; Harry felt more warmly toward her than he had done so far as she heft the tent with her head held high and her hand clutching her wand. He and Krum were left alone, at opposite sides of the tent, avoiding each other's gaze.

The same process started again.…"Oh I'm not sure that was wise!” they could hear Bagman shouting gleefully. “Oh…nearly! Careful now…good lord, I thought she'd had it then!”

Ten minutes later, Harry heard the crowd erupt into applause once more.…Fleur must have been successful too. A pause, while Fleur's marks were being shown…more clapping…then, for the third time, the whistle.

“And here comes Mr. Krum!” cried Bagman, and Krum slouched out, leaving Harry quite alone.

He felt much more aware of his body than usual; very aware of the way his heart was pumping fast, and his fingers tingling with fear…yet at the same time, he seemed to be outside himself, seeing the walls of the tent, and hearing the crowd, as though from far away.

“Very daring!” Bagman was yelling, and Harry heard the Chinese Fireball emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. “That's some nerve he's showing - and - yes, he's got the egg!”

Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass; Krum had finished - it would be Harry's turn any moment.

He stood up, noticing dimly that his legs seemed to be made of marshmallow. He waited. And then he heard the whistle blow. He walked out through the entrance of the tent, the panic rising into a crescendo inside him. And now he was walking past the trees, through a gap in the enclosure fence.

He saw everything in front of him as though it was a very highly colored dream. There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at him from stands that had been magicked there since he'd last stood on this spot. And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, heaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, Harry didn't know or care. It was time to do what he had to do…to focus his mind, entirely and absolutely, upon the thing that was his only chance.

He raised his wand.

“Accio Firebolt!” he shouted.

Harry waited, every fiber of him hoping, praying.…If it hadn't worked…if it wasn't coming…He seemed to be looking at everything around him through some sort of shimmering, transparent barrier, like a heat haze, which made the enclosure and the hundreds of faces around him swim strangely.…

And then he heard it, speeding through the air behind him; he turned and saw his Firebolt hurtling toward him around the edge of the woods, soaring into the enclosure, and stopping dead in midair beside him, waiting for him to mount. The crowd was making even more noise.…Bagman was shouting something…but Harry's ears were not working properly anymore…listening wasn't important.…

He swung his leg over the broom and kicked off from the ground. And a second later, something miraculous happened.…

As he soared upward, as the wind rushed through his hair, as the crowd's faces became mere flesh-colored pinpnicks below, and the Horntail shrank to the size of a dog, he realized that he had left not only the ground behind, but also his fear.…He was back where he belonged.…

This was just another Quidditch match, that was all…just another Quidditch match, and that Horntail was just another ugly opposing team.…

He looked down at the clutch of eggs and spotted the gold one, gleaming against its cement-colored fellows, residing safely between the dragon's front legs. “Okay,” Harry told himself, “diversionary tactics…let's go…”

He dived. The Horntail's head followed him; he knew what it was going to do and pulled out of the dive just in time; a jet of fire had been released exactly where he would have been had he not swerved away…but Harry didn't care…that was no more than dodging a Bludger.…

“Great Scott, he can fly!” yelled Bagman as the crowd shrieked and gasped. “Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?”

Harry soared higher in a circle; the Horntail was still following his progress; its head revolving on its long neck - if he kept this up, it would be nicely dizzy - but better not push it too long, or it would be breathing fire again -

Harry plummeted just as the Horntail opened its mouth, but this time he was less lucky - he missed the flames, but the tail came whipping up to meet him instead, and as he swerved to the left, one of the long spikes grazed his shoulder, ripping his robes -

He could feel it stinging, he could hear screaming and groans from the crowd, but the cut didn't seem to be deep.…Now he zoomed around the back of the Horntail, and a possibility occurred to him.…

The Horntail didn't seem to want to take off, she was too protective of her eggs. Though she writhed and twisted, furling and unfurling her wings and keeping those fearsome yellow eyes on Harry, she was afraid to move too far from them…but he had to persuade her to do it, or he'd never get near them.…The trick was to do it carefully, gradually.…

He began to fly, first this way, then the other, not near enough to make her breathe fire to stave him off, but still posing a sufficient threat to ensure she kept her eyes on him. Her head swayed this way and that, watching him out of those vertical pupils, her fangs bared.…

He flew higher. The Horntail's head rose with him, her neck now stretched to its fullest extent, still swaying, hike a snake before its charmer.…

Harry rose a few more feet, and she let out a roar of exasperation. He was like a fly to her, a fly she was longing to swat; her tail thrashed again, but he was too high to reach now.…She shot fire into the air, which he dodged.…Her jaws opened wide.…

“Come on,” Harry hissed, swerving tantalizingly above her, “come on, come and get me…up you get now…”

And then she reared, spreading her great, black, leathery wings at last, as wide as those of a small airplane - and Harry dived. Before the dragon knew what he had done, or where he had disappeared to, he was speeding toward the ground as fast as he could go, toward the eggs now unprotected by her clawed front legs - he had taken his hands off his Firebolt - he had seized the golden egg -

And with a huge spurt of speed, he was off, he was soaring out over the stands, the heavy egg safely under his uninjured arm, and it was as though somebody had just turned the volume back up - for the first time, he became properly aware of the noise of the crowd, which was screaming and applauding as loudly as the Irish supporters at the World Cup -

“Look at that!” Bagman was yelling. “Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!”

Harry saw the dragon keepers rushing forward to subdue the Horntail, and, over at the entrance to the enclosure, Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Hagrid hurrying to meet him, all of them waving him toward them, their smiles evident even from this distance. He flew back over the stands, the noise of the crowd pounding his eardrums, and came in smoothly to land, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks.…He had got through the first task, he had survived.…

“That was excellent, Potter!” cried Professor McGonagall as he got off the Firebolt - which from her was extravagant praise. He noticed that her hand shook as she pointed at his shoulder. “You'll need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score.…Over there, she's had to mop up Diggory already.…”

“Yeh did it, Harry!” said Hagrid hoarsely. “Yeh did it! An’ agains’ the Horntail an’ all, an’ yeh know Charlie said that was the wors’ -”

“Thanks, Hagrid,” said Harry loudly, so that Hagrid wouldn't blunder on and reveal that he had shown Harry the dragons beforehand.

Professor Moody looked very pleased too; his magical eye was dancing in its socket.

“Nice and easy does the trick, Potter,” he growled.

“Right then, Potter, the first aid tent, please…” said Professor McGonagall.

Harry walked out of the enclosure, still panting, and saw Madam Pomfrey standing at the mouth of a second tent, looking worried.

“Dragons!” she said, in a disgusted tone, pulling Harry inside. The tent was divided into cubicles; he could make out Cedric's shadow through the canvas, but Cedric didn't seem to be badly injured; he was sitting up, at least. Madam Pomfrey examined Harry's shoulder, talking furiously all the while. “Last year dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next? You're very lucky…this is quite shallow…it'll need cleaning before I heal it up, though….”

She cleaned the cut with a dab of some purple liquid that smoked and stung, but then poked his shoulder with her wand, and he felt it heal instantly.

“Now, just sit quietly for a minute - sit! And then you can go and get your score.”

She bustled out of the tent and he heard her go next door and say, “How does it feel now, Diggory?”

Harry didn't want to sit still. He was too full of adrenaline. He got to his feet, wanting to see what was going on outside, but before he'd reached the mouth of the tent, two people had come darting inside - Hermione, followed closely by Ron.

“Harry, you were brilliant!” Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. “You were amazing! You really were!”

But Harry was looking at Ron, who was very white and staring at Harry as though he were a ghost.

“Harry,” he said, very seriously, “whoever put your name in that goblet - I - I reckon they're trying to do you in!”

It was as though the last few weeks had never happened - as though Harry were meeting Ron for the first time, right after he'd been made champion.

“Caught on, have you?” said Harry coldly. “Took you long enough.”

Hermione stood nervously between them, looking from one to the other. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly. Harry knew Ron was about to apologize and suddenly he found he didn't need to hear it.

“It's okay,” he said, before Ron could get the words out. “Forget it.”

“No,” said Ron, “I shouldn't've -”

“Forget it, “Harry said.

Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back.

Hermione burst into tears.

“There's nothing to cry about!” Harry told her, bewildered.

“You two are so stupid!” she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before either of them could stop her, she had given both of them a hug and dashed away, now positively howling.

“Barking mad,” said Ron, shaking his head. “Harry, c'mon, they'll be putting up your scores.…”

Picking up the golden egg and his Firebolt, feeling more elated than he would have believed possible an hour ago, Harry ducked out of the tent, Ron by his side, talking fast.

“You were the best, you know, no competition. Cedric did this weird thing where he Transfigured a rock on the ground…turned it into a dog…he was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of him. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because he did get the egg, but he got burned as well - the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have him than the Labrador; he only just got away. And that Fleur girl tried this sort of charm, I think she was trying to put it into a trance - well, that kind of worked too, it went all sleepy, but then it snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her skirt caught fire - she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand. And Krum - you won't believe this, but he didn't even think of flying! He was probably the best after you, though. Hit it with some sort of spell right in the eye. Only thing is, it went trampling around in agony and squashed half the real eggs - they took marks off for that, he wasn't supposed to do any damage to them.”

Ron drew breath as he and Harry reached the edge of the enclosure. Now that the Horntail had been taken away, Harry could see where the five judges were sitting - right at the other end, in raised seats draped in gold.

“It's marks out of ten from each one,” Ron said, and Harry squinting up the field, saw the first judge - Madame Maxime - raise her wand in the air. What hooked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure eight.

“Not bad!” said Ron as the crowd applauded. “I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder…”

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air.

“Looking good!” Ron yelled, thumping Harry on the back.

Next, Dumbledore. He too put up a nine. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.

Ludo Bagman - ten.

“Ten?” said Harry in disbelief. “But…I got hurt.…What's he playing at?”

“Harry, don't complain!” Ron yelled excitedly.

And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand too - four.

“What?” Ron bellowed furiously. “Four? You lousy, biased scum-bag, you gave Krum ten!”

But Harry didn't care, he wouldn't have cared if Karkaroff had given him zero; Ron's indignation on his behalf was worth about a hundred points to him. He didn't tell Ron this, of course, but his heart felt lighter than air as he turned to leave the enclosure. And it wasn't just Ron…those weren't only Gryffindors cheering in the crowd. When it had come to it, when they had seen what he was facing, most of the school had been on his side as well as Cedric's.…He didn't care about the Slytherins, he could stand whatever they threw at him now.

“You're tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!” said Charlie Weasley, hurrying to meet them as they set off back toward the school. “Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened - but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah - and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes.…Bagman wants a word, back in the champions’ tent.”

Ron said he would wait, so Harry reentered the tent, which somehow looked quite different now: friendly and welcoming. He thought back to how he'd felt while dodging the Horntail, and compared it to the long wait before he'd walked out to face it.…There was no comparison; the wait had been immeasurably worse.

Fleur, Cedric, and Krum all came in together. One side of Cedric's face was covered in a thick orange paste, which was presumably mending his burn. He grinned at Harry when he saw him.

“Good one, Harry.”

“And you,” said Harry, grinning back.

“Well done, all of you!” said Ludo Bagman, bouncing into the tent and looking as pleased as though he personally had just got past a dragon. “Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth - but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open…see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg - because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!”

Harry left the tent, rejoined Ron, and they started to walk back around the edge of the forest, talking hard; Harry wanted to hear what the other champions had done in more detail. Then, as they rounded the clump of trees behind which Harry had first heard the dragons roar, a witch leapt out from behind them.

It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them.

“Congratulations, Harry!” she said, beaming at him. “I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel now, about the fairness of the scoring?”

“Yeah, you can have a word,” said Harry savagely. “Good-bye.”

And he set off back to the castle with Ron.


星期天早上哈利起床时,他精神根本集中不了,穿衣服的时候有一会儿他想把帽子而不是袜子套在脚上,自己却毫不察觉。好不容易终于穿戴整齐后就匆匆出门去找荷米恩。哈利在大会堂的格林芬顿桌那儿找到了她,她正和金妮一块吃早饭呢。哈利根本没心思吃饭,一等荷米恩舀完最后一勺粥,就拉着她到操场上去散步。在那里又一次沿湖而走时,哈利告诉了荷米恩所有有关龙的事情,还有西里斯所说的一切。

  尽管西里斯关于卡克罗夫的警告引起了她的担心,荷米恩还是觉得龙的问题是目前最迫切的事情。

  “我们得设法让你到周二晚上还能保住性命,”她绝望地说,“然后我们再来考虑卡克罗夫。”

  他俩绕着湖走了三圈,想要找到一个能打败龙的咒语。可毫无头绪,于是他们又回到了图书馆。在图书馆里,哈利抽出每一本他能找到的关于龙的书,可那些书只把他引向再一次的搜索。

  “魔爪被法力剪去,处理天平上的污秽‘,这咒语一点用处也没有,它是给哈格力那样的疯子强身健体用的。”

  “龙很难被杀死,因为古老的魔法赋予了它们厚厚的皮肤,只有最厉害的咒语才可以刺穿。但西里斯明明说过用一个简单的咒语同样可以做到。”

  “那我们就找些容易点的魔法书吧。”哈利说,一边把《太爱龙的人》一书抛到一旁。

  他捧着~摞魔法书回到桌前,放下书,开始一本本地翻查。荷米恩在他身侧小声喊着坚持,“哦,有交换术呀,可干嘛要交换呢?

  除非你想用它的翅膀换什么萄萄酒口香糖之类的东西,那样的话它就没那么危险了。问题是,就像这书上说的,没多少东西能穿透龙皮,我想得把龙变形,可那么大的龙,我怀疑甚至麦康娜教授也未必能行,要不你打算对自己施魔法?给自己增强力量?可那些魔法可不容易了,我是说,上课时从没有试过,我也是因为要做O.W.L的实习报告才知道这类法术的。“

  “荷米恩!”哈利从牙缝里挤出话说,“你能不能给我闭一会嘴?

  我要尽量集中精神户但是荷米恩一不出声,哈利的大脑就绕满了一种单调的嗡嗡声,搅得他根本集中不了心思,他绝望地看着索引《放肆和愤怒者之基本魔法》中的即刻连发剥头皮术,可龙是没有头发的,那很可能会增加龙的火力呢;切除号角舌头术,这正是哈利需要的,可以算是额外武器。

  “噢,不,他又回来了,他干嘛不能在自己的该死的船上看书呢?”荷米思恼火地说。这时维特。克伦低着头走进来,望了他俩一眼,就拿着一堆书坐在了远处一个角落,“走吧,哈利,我们回公共休息室去,他的那帮追随者很快就要杀到了,到时又吱吱喳喳的。”

  真的,他俩刚起身,一帮女生就蹑手蹑脚地经过他们,其中一个还围了条保加利亚围巾在腰间。

  哈利那晚几乎没合眼。当他早上醒来时,首先认真考虑的就是从霍格瓦彻逃跑掉。可当他吃早饭时环顾着大会堂,想着从城堡逃跑将意味着什么时,他知道自己做不到,这儿是他唯一获得快乐的地方,嗯,他想以前和父母在一起时他也一定是快乐的,只是他已记不得了。

  不管怎么说,明白到自己宁愿呆在这里面对一条龙也不愿回普里怀特街和达德里在一起,这种认识使他感到有点镇定了。哈利困难地,咽下腌肉(他喉咙痛得不得了)。他和荷米恩起身要离开时,看到塞德里克。迪格瑞也离开海夫巴夫桌。

  塞德里克可还不知情呢,他是唯一不知道的勇士,如果哈利没猜错的话,玛西姆和卡克罗夫已经告诉了芙璐和克伦。

  “荷米恩,你先走,我会去温房找你的,”哈利说,看着塞德里克离开会堂地做出了决定,“走吧,我会赶上你的。”

  “哈利,你会迟到的,铃很快就要响了——”

  “我会赶上去的,好吗?”

  等哈利退到大理石楼梯底时,塞德里克已位于顶部了,周围围了一群六年级生。哈利可不想在他们面前和塞德里克讲话;那群家伙每次他一走近都会对他引用理特。史姬特的文章。哈利和塞德里克保持着一定距离,看到他正走向法术走廊。这可给了哈利一个主意。他站定脚步,拉出魔杖,仔细瞄准,喊了一声。

  “迪芬多!”

  塞德里克的口袋裂开了。羊皮纸、羽毛笔还有书跌出来,散落在地面。还有几瓶墨水打碎了。

  “不麻烦你们了,我自个儿来就行,”塞德里克有点恼火地说,不让他的朋友们弯腰来帮他抬东西,“告诉菲利特威克我很快就来,去吧!”

  这正是哈利所希望发生的,他把魔杖放回长袍,等到塞德里克的那帮朋友进了课堂不见了后快步走上去,走廊里只剩他和塞德里克。

  “嗨!”塞德里克一边打招呼,一边拾起一本《高级变形术指南》,那书已被墨水溅湿,“我的口袋刚裂开了,全新的口袋啊。”

  “塞德里克。”哈利说,“第一项任务是龙!”

  “什么?”塞德里克说,他把头抬起来。

  “龙!”哈利快速重复了一遍,以防菲利特威克教授出来看塞德里克在干什么。“共有四只,我们一人一支,而且我们必须通过那些龙!”

  塞德里克盯着哈利看。在他眼中哈利看到了一些自己从周六晚上起就开始感到的惊慌。

  “你肯定吗?”塞德里克用肃静的语调问。

  “肯定到不能再肯定,”哈利答,“我见过它们。”

  “可你是怎么发现的?我们不应该知道。”

  “甭管了,”哈利马上说——他知道要说真话哈格力就会有麻烦。“我可不是唯一知道的。芙滩和克伦现在也都知道了——玛西姆和卡克罗夫也都见到了龙。”

  塞德里克站起来,手臂上沾满了染了墨迹的羽毛笔、羊皮纸和书本,他那破了的口袋在肩膀上吊着。他又一次盯着哈利,眼中有一种困惑,甚至可说是怀疑的神色。

  “你为什么告诉我?”他问。

  哈利不相信地望着他。哈利肯定要是塞德里克自己看到那龙就一定不会这样问他。哈利可不愿要自己最差的敌人毫无准备地面对那些怪物。

  “这只是,公平,不是吗?”他对塞德里克说,“我们现在都知道了,大家在同一起跑线,对吗?”

  塞德里克还在有一点点怀疑地看着他,突然哈利听到身后一阵熟悉的撞击声。他转过身去,见到魔眼莫迪从附近一间课堂中走出。

  “跟我来,波特?”他咆嗜着说,“迪格瑞,你走吧。”

  哈利有点儿担心地看着莫迪,难道他听到他俩刚才的谈话?

  “嗯——教授,我该去上草药学课——”

  “不必担心,来我办公室吧。”

  哈利只好跟着他,纳闷这次不知什么要降临到自己身上。要是莫迪想知道他是怎么发现龙的事情呢?莫迪会不会去找丹伯多,惩罚哈格力,或干脆把他变成一只雪貂呢?哎,自己要是只雪貂要通过大龙还会容易点呢,哈利闷闷地想着,自己会小个得多,从五十尺高的地方往下看会难发现得多……

  他跟着莫迪进了办公室。莫迪关上了身后的门,转身望着哈利,他的魔法眼睛和另一只正常眼睛都定在哈利身上不动。

  “波特,你刚做了件非常高尚的事。”莫迪静静地说。

  哈利简直不知道如何作答,这完全不是他所预料的反应。

  “坐吧!”莫迪又说。于是哈利坐下,看了看四周。

  他曾在前两任这个办公室的所有者还在时来过这里。罗克哈特教授在的时候,墙上帖着教授自己微笑眨眼的照片。而露平在这儿住的时候,你更有可能碰上些教授新搞到手要在课堂上使用的迷人的黑暗生物。现在又不同了,办公室里所见皆是些稀奇古怪的物品,哈利推想莫迪该在自己是奥罗的日子里用过这些东西。

  桌上摆着一个又大又有裂缝的、旋转的玻璃陀螺,哈利一眼就认出这是个史尼克,因为他自己也有一个,尽管比莫迪的要小得多。墙角的小桌上放着一个像是特别弯曲的、金色的电视天线一样东西,它还发出轻微的哼声。墙上正对着哈利的地方挂了一面像是镜子的东西,可是里面却没有房间的影像,有的只是影子般移来移去的几个图像,可是又没有一个是清楚显示的。

  “你喜欢我的黑暗探测器,对吧?”莫迪说,他正仔细地看着哈利。

  “那是什么?”莫迪指着曲折的金色天线问。

  “秘密感应器。在探测到谎言和隐藏真相时就会颤动,当然在这儿毫无用处,有太多干扰了——每个方向都有学生在对为什么没完成作业而撒谎。所以从我来到这儿起就一直在嗡嗡叫。我也不得不关掉我的史尼克,因为它不停地在发出鸣声。它太敏感了,方圆一里以内的信号都接收得到。当然,它可以接收的东西不止是孩子们的小事。”他用那吼叫一样的声音补充道。

  “那这镜子又是干嘛的?”

  “喔,那是我的敌人显示镜。看到他们在附近埋伏潜行吗?除非我在镜中见到他们的眼白部分,否则我是不会有什么大麻烦的。

  不过到那时我可得打开皮箱了!“

  他发出一阵短促刺耳的笑声,一边指着窗下面的一个大皮箱。

  那皮箱有一排七个钥匙孔。哈利寻思里面会有些什么,直到莫迪的问题把他迅即拉回到现实。

  “那么,你是发现了龙喔?”

  哈利犹豫着。他一直为这个担心——他没告诉塞德里克,更不打算告诉莫迪——哈格力打破了约定。

  “没什么,”莫迪说,他坐下来,伸出他的木腿,呻吟了一声。

  “作弊是三巫士比赛的一个传统部分,向来如此。”

  “我没有作弊,”哈利严厉地说,“那只是——很意外的情形下我才发现的。”

  莫迪咧嘴笑了。“我并没有怪你,小害羞。我一开始就跟丹伯多说过,他尽可以照自己喜欢的方式保持正大光明,但老卡克罗夫和玛西姆可不会那么崇高。他们会告诉自己的勇士一切。他们只想着赢。他们想打败丹伯多,要证明他不过是个凡人。”

  莫迪又刺耳地笑着,他的魔眼转得飞快,看得哈利很不舒服。

  “那么,你想好了怎样通过龙的法子没?”莫迪问。

  “没有。”哈利答。

  “啊,我可不打算教你。”莫迪粗暴地说,“我不偏心,我不。

  我只打算给你一些好的,概括的建议。第一点就是——运用你的力量。“

  “我什么力量也没有啊。”哈利脱口而出,想要往口却已说完了。

  “不对,”莫迪咆哮着,“我说你有力量你就有,现在想吧,你最擅长什么?”

  哈利努力集中精神。最擅长的?哦,那容易,真的——“快迪斯!”他迟疑地答道:“还有很多——”

  “那就对了,”莫迪说,他死死地盯住哈利,魔法眼一动也不动,“我听说,你是一个棒极了的飞行家?”

  “嗯,对,可……”哈利回瞪着他,“我没获准使用扫帚,我只有魔杖——”

  “我的第二条忠告,”莫迪大声打断他,“是用一个管用的,简单的咒语来帮助你得到你需要的东西。”

  哈利呆呆地看着他,自己需要什么呢?

  “孩子,想想。”莫迪低声说,“把所有的东西放到一起,不难想到的。”

  忽然哈利灵机一动想到了。他最擅于飞行,他得在空中穿过龙的守卫。于是,他需要他的霹雳帚。而为了霹雳帚,他需要——“荷米恩。”哈利轻声说出。十分钟后他冲入三号温房,跑过史伯特教授身边时匆匆道了歉,“荷米恩,我需要你的帮助。”

  “你以为我一直在设法做的是什么,哈利?”她小声反问道。越过她正修剪的摇曳着的飞特柏灌木顶端,是她流露出不满的眼光。

  “荷米恩,我得在明天下午以前学会正确地使用召唤术。”

  于是他们开始练习。他们没有吃午饭,径直去了一间空教室,在那儿哈利尽力让房间里的各种物体飞向他。但还有点困难,不够熟练。那些练习的书本和羽毛笔在空中飞到一半往往就失去重心,像石头一般跌落地面。

  “集中注意力,哈利,得集中。”

  “我不是一直在尽量集中吗?”哈利生气地说,“可不知怎的,一头又脏又大的龙不停在我脑海浮现,好吧,再来一次。”

  哈利想逃掉占卜课继续练习,可是荷米恩不想因为不上课而失分,而没有她陪同练习就没有意义。所以哈利不得不花一个多小时听特雷络尼教授在那儿用半节课公告大家现在火星与土星的位置关系意味着七月份出生的人将处于突然、暴力死亡的巨大危险之中。

  “啊,那挺好。”哈利大声说,有点儿发脾气,“死也没什么,只要别弄太久,我可不想活受罪。”

  罗恩看过来一会儿,好像有点忍俊不禁,这么些天来他第一次引起了哈利的注意,可哈利心里对罗恩还是太忿恨了,所以没在意他。剩下的半节课哈利在课桌底下练习用魔杖吸引小物件到周围。

  他成功地让一只苍蝇直直地撞到他手里,可他还是不能完全确定那是否出于他唤物术的威力——还是这头苍蝇太笨了。

  占卜课后哈利逼自己吃了点晚饭,然后和荷米恩回到空课室,沿路穿着隐身袍避开了老师。他们一直练习直到过了午夜,本可以再待久点,可是皮维斯出现了,而且假装以为哈利要让物体飞向自己,皮维斯开始在房间里扔椅子。哈利和荷米恩只得在吵声引来弗尔克之前匆匆离开,又回到格林芬顿普通房,那儿幸亏没人。

  凌晨两点,哈利站在火神旁,周围是成堆东西——书啦,羽毛笔啦,几张翻转的椅子啦,一套旧的哥伯石啦,还有尼维尔的蟾蜍啦。只有到了最后时刻哈利才真正掌握了召唤术的诀窍。

  “那好多了,哈利。”荷米恩看起来挺累,但很满意。

  “好,现在我们明白下次我学不好一个咒语时该怎么办了,”哈利说。他扔回给荷米恩一本魔法字典以便再练习一遍,“用一头龙来危胁我!”他再一次举起魔咒,念着,‘阿西欧字典!“’那本重书咆哮着飞出荷米思的双手,穿过房间,被哈利抓在手中。

  “哈利,我想你真的学会了!”荷米恩高兴地说。

  “但愿明天管用。”哈利说。“霹雳帚到时可比这房里的东西远得多,它会在城堡里,而我会在城堡外面的操场里。”

  “那没关系,”荷米恩坚定地说。“只要你真真正正、全神贯注,就可以唤来。哈利,我们最好回去睡了,你需要睡眠。”

  那晚哈利是那么认真地学习唤物术,以致于把部分盲目的恐慌抛于脑后。然而,在次日早晨,那惊慌又重新卷土而来。校园里的气氛紧张而又刺激。课只上半天,下午所有的学生都有时间去看哈利等人的出场表演——尽管目前他们还不知道他们等待的是什么。

  不管周围的人是祝他好运,还是在他经过时不满地发出嘘声“我们会准备好一箱抢救纱布的,波特”,哈利都觉得分外的孤单。

  这紧张感是那么强烈,他怀疑自己在被领去见龙时会不会失去控制,大声的咒骂见到的每一个人。

  时间好似以以前从未有的方式行进,一块块地飞逝,前一分钟他还坐在第一节课魔法历史的课堂里,下一分钟他就是走去吃午餐,再然后(上午是怎么度过的?没见大龙前的最后几小时上哪儿去了?)麦康娜教授正在大会堂里向他匆匆走来。周围很多人都看到了。

  “波特,勇士们现在就要下到操场了,你得为第一项任务作准备。”

  “好的,”哈利答道。他站起身,吃着的猪肉啪的一声掉回碟千里。

  “祝你走运,哈利,”荷米恩再语道,“你会做到的!”

  “对!”哈利说,可他说话的声音却一点也不像平时。

  他和麦康娜教授离开了大会堂。她也显得很不自在,事实上,她看起来和荷米恩一样紧张。她和哈利走下石阶,正要进入那个寒冷的十一月午后的操场时,她把手放在他的肩上。

  “现在,不要谎张,”她说,“保持头脑冷静,万一情况失控我们也会有巫师控制局面,主要的是要尽力做到最好你的,没有人会看低你的,你还好吧?”

  “是,”哈利听到自己说,“是的,我还好。”

  她领着他走向龙的藏身之地,沿着森林的边缘,但是当他们接近围墙的树丛时,哈利见到一座新搭起的帐篷,它的人口正对着他们,遮住了龙。

  “你和其他勇士从这里进去,”麦康娜教授用近乎颤抖的声音说,“然后等着轮到你时,巴格蒙先生也会在里面,他会告诉你,告诉你程序,祝你好运。”

  “谢谢,”哈利说,声音扁平而又冷淡。她在帐篷入口处离开。

  哈利进了去。维特。克伦显得比平时更傲慢,哈利倒觉得那是他紧张的方式。塞德里克来回地踱步,哈利进去时,塞德里克对他笑了笑,哈利回以一笑,可觉得塞德里克脸上的肌肉十分僵硬,仿佛已忘了该如何作笑容状。

  “哈利!噢,好了!”巴格蒙高兴地说,上下打量着他,“进来进来,就像在自个儿家里一样!”

  巴格蒙站在这群全都脸色发白的勇士中间,有点像是个块头过大的卡通人物。他又穿起了他那旧黄蜂袍。

  “好了,现在人都到齐了——是时候开始了!”巴格蒙轻快地说“等观众到齐后,我就把这袋子拿到你们面前,”——他举起一个小紫色小丝袋,向他们四个晃了晃——“从袋子里面你们要选出一个模型,那就是你们待会要面对的敌人!每个人的都不一样——嗯——你们知道,得有花样。并且我还得告诉你们点什么别的。啊,对了,你们的任务是要取得金蛋!”

  哈利瞥了一下旁边。塞德里克点了一次头,表明听懂了巴格蒙的话,然后又开始绕着帐篷踱步;他看起来脸色有点发青。芙璐。

  迪来高和克伦根本就没有反应。可能他们想如果开口的话他们就会不适,那也是哈利的感觉。但他们至少,是自愿这样……

  没一会儿功夫,就听到数百次脚步声经过帐篷,那些人兴奋地谈着、笑着、闹着,只有一帐之隔,可是觉得与那群人极为遥远,仿佛他们是另一个生物种类一般。接着——对哈利而言好像只过了一秒——巴格蒙打开了小紫丝袋的袋口。

  “女士优先,”他说,把袋子递到芙璐·迪来高面前。

  她颤抖着手进袋,摸出了一个小巧的,完美的龙的模型——一只威尔士绿龙,它的脖子上围着个号码。于是哈利知道自己猜对了:玛西姆女士早已告诉了她要面对的事物。因为芙璐·迪来高并不吃惊,倒是有种听天由命的神情。

  克伦的反应也不出所料地证明哈利又对了。他抽出的是猩红的中国火龙,有一个号码3在颈上。他眼都没眨,只是盯着地面。

  塞德里克伸手入袋,摸出了一只蓝灰色的瑞典短鼻龙,号码是1.知道只剩下一个4,哈利把手放入丝袋,拿出一只匈牙利号尾龙,不用说号码是4.哈利向下看着它时,它报以伸出的双翅和小小尖牙。

  “好了,你们都有了!”巴格蒙说,“每个人都抽出了要面对的龙,而号码就是指你们要斗龙的顺序,明白吗?现在我会出去,留些时间给你们,我要出去解说一下。迪格瑞先生,你是第一个,听到口哨声时走出帐篷去围墙里面,好吗?现在,哈利,我能和你讲两句话吗?到外边来。”

  “嗯,好的。”哈利呆呆地说,他起身,跟着巴格蒙走出帐篷,走了一小段路来到树林。巴格蒙转身向他,脸上有种父亲般关怀的神色。

  “你觉得好吗,哈利?有什么我能帮你吗?”

  “什么?”哈利说。“我——不,不用了。”

  “想好对策了吗?”巴格蒙又说,像是同谋者一样压低声音。

  “因为我可不介意分享一点小意思,如果你需要的话,你知道。我是说,”巴格蒙接着说,声音压得更低,“你是这里处于下风的人,要有什么我能帮得上忙的话尽管说。”

  “不用,”哈利,拒绝都快到自己都觉得太没礼貌,“不用了——我——我已决定了要怎么做了,谢谢。”

  “没有人会知道的,哈利。”巴格蒙说,向他眨着眼。

  “不,我自己就行,”哈利,不知道为什么自己会不停地告诉别人自己可以,难道以前他显出过不行吗?“我已经想好了一个计划,我——”

  某处传来了口哨声。

  “天啊,我可得跑了!”巴格蒙慌张地说完,急急忙忙走了。

  哈利走回帐篷,看见塞德里克从里面走出,脸色比以往任何时候都青。哈利在他经过时想祝他好远,但是从哈利口中冒出的更像是一阵沙哑的咕噜声。

  哈利回去里面和芙璐和克伦在一起。几秒钟后,他们听到了人群的吼叫声,那表示塞德里克已进入了围墙,正面对面地看着他模型的实物原型。

  情况比哈利所想象过的还要糟糕,光是坐着和听着。群众的尖叫声,欢呼声,喘气声表明塞德里克正施展浑身解数要通过瑞典短鼻龙。克伦还在看地面。芙璐现在像塞德里克先前那样绕着帐篷踱步。而巴格蒙的话使得一切都变得更糟更坏,在哈利的脑海中形成恐怖的画面,他听到吼声:“哦,那儿差了一点就行,就那么一点!”“他这是玩命呀,这一次!”“闪得漂亮——可惜没成功!”

  十五分钟过去了。哈利听到震耳欲聋的响声,那只能意味着:塞德里克已经通过了他的龙,取得了金蛋。

  “很好!”巴格蒙喊道,“现在评委亮分!”

  但是他没喊出分数,哈利假想着评委把分数牌举起,亮给观众看。

  “一位完成了,还有三位!”巴格蒙又喊着,口哨再次响起。

  “迪米高小姐,请!”

  芙珊从头到脚都在发抖。当她昂着头、紧握住魔杖步出帐时哈利感到从未象那一刻一样对她那么有亲切感。只剩他和克伦在帐里的对面,互相躲避着对方的注视。

  同样的程序又开始了。“哦,我觉得那可不一定明智!”他们可以听到巴格蒙快乐地喊叫着,“哦,差一点!现在小心了,天啊,我还以为她会拿到蛋呢!”

  十分钟后,哈利听到人群又一次爆发出掌声,芙略一定也成功了。声音停止了,该是在亮芙珊的分,更多的拍掌,然后,第三次听到了,口哨声。

  “以下要出场的是克伦先生!”巴格蒙喊道,克伦垂着头出去了,只剩哈利独个儿了。

  他比平日更清楚地感受到身体的各部分:清楚地意识到他的心跳得很快,他的手指因恐惧而觉得刺痛,而与此同时,他又觉得自己灵魂已出离,好像从很遥远处看着帐篷外的墙,听着人群的喧嚣。

  “非常勇敢!”巴格蒙又在欢呼了。哈利听到中国火龙发出一声恐怖的轰隆响的尖叫,观众都屏住了呼吸。“那可真正显出了他的胆量——而且——太好了,他拿到金蛋了!”

  掌声像打碎玻璃一样打破了寒冬的空气,克伦也完成了——随时都会轮到哈利了。

  他站起来,隐隐发觉双腿好像是用沼泽里的草做的。他在那等着,跟着听到了哨声。他走出帐口,内心的惊慌就像渐强音一样越来越大。现在他正穿越树林,穿过一个围栏上的缺口。

  他所看到的一切仿佛是一个极高色彩度的梦。自从他一踏进这块地方,成百上千张脸孔就从魔法变出的看台上向下望着他。还有那只号角尾龙,在围栏的另一端,蹲下身来看护着她的蛋,她的双翼半张着,她那邪恶的、泛黄的双眼打量着哈利,这只巨大的全身磷片的黑惭蝎,挥打着她的钉状尾巴,在硬地上留下长达一码的孔印。观众席上发出巨大的响声,但不管是否出于友善,哈利已经不知道也不在意了。是时候做他得干的事了。要集中精神,完完全全绝对地贯注于那样物体。

  他举起了魔杖。

  “阿西欧霹雳帚!”他大喊。

  他等着,全身的每一根神经维都在盼望着,祈祷着。要是这法子木奏效,要是那霹雳帚不来……他好像在透过一种发光的透明的屏障,比如一阵热雾,来看身边的一切,而这道屏障使得围栏以及那数百张脸奇怪地在他周围浮游着。

  然后他听到那东西正快速向他身后飞来,他转身看到他的霹雳帚在树林边碰撞而来,呼啸着进入围栏内,在他身旁半空中打住,听候他的差遣。人群更为吵闹了。巴格蒙也在喊着些什么,但哈利的耳朵不再正常工作了,听觉并不重要了。

  他跨腿上帚,从地面一踢,一秒钟后,不可思议的事情发生了。

  他拔地而起,直冲云霄,风呼呼地吹过发际,观众的脸变成下方极小的肉色钟孔,而那号尾龙缩小到了狗的大小,他意识到自己不仅已升离地面,更已抛离恐惧,回到了真正属于自己的地方。

  这只是另一个快迪斯比赛罢了,仅此而已。另一场快迪斯比赛,而那龙仅是另一支丑陋的敌队罢了。

  他俯望那一窝蛋,认出那金色的一只。金蛋发出与其他银灰色同伴不同的光亮,稳稳地放在龙的前腿之间。“好!”哈利对自己说,“用声东击西策略,我们走。”

  他向下俯冲。号尾龙的脑蛋紧跟不放。他知道那畜牲想干什么,及时抽身而退,一道火焰喷向了他若不闪避就会到达的位置,好险,可哈利不怕,那不比闪避一只鹰难多少。

  “伟大的苏格兰,他能飞呢!”巴格蒙激动大叫,群众尖叫着,喘着气。“你在观看吗,克伦先生?”

  哈利旋转着上升,号尾龙还在紧追不舍,它长长的脖子像麻花一样扭了又扭——如果哈利继续下去,那龙肯定会头晕的——但最好别逗它太久,否则它又会喷火了——哈利在龙口再次张大时陡直下降,但这次他没那么走运——虽然避开了火焰,却撞上了龙尾的鞭打,他闪向左边时,一根长钉擦过他的肩膀,撕裂了他的长袍——他感到了刺痛,听到了人群的尖叫和呻吟,可那伤口好像并不深。现在他绕升到龙的背部,看到了一个机会。

  号尾龙并不想起飞,她太强烈地想保护她的蛋了。尽管她缠绕着,扭曲着身体,展开又合拢双翼,那双令人生惧的黄眼睛始终没离开过哈利身上,她还是害怕距离她的蛋太远,但他必须说服地走开,否则他就永远没机会靠近那些蛋。关键是要小心行事,慢慢引诱。

  他开始一会儿往这边飞,一会儿往那边飞,保持在龙喷火范围以外,但又能构成足够的威胁使龙眼注视着他。她的头摇来摆去,直直地从瞳孔里盯住哈利,她的尖牙咧露。

  他飞得更高。龙头随之升高,龙颈现在已升到最长,还在摇来摇去,就像一头在法师面前的蛇。

  哈利又升高见英尺,龙发出一阵怒吼。哈利就像一只苍蝇,烦得她要开杀戒,龙尾又开始挥打了,又因为哈利太高了够不着,她向空中喷火,可被—一躲开。

  “来吧,”哈利嘶嘶叫道,在她头上挑逗地闪来避去,“来吧,上来抓我呀,现在你上来呀。”

  终于她站了起来,展开她巨大的黑皮双翅,有一架小型飞机那么宽——哈利俯冲而下。在那龙弄明白他做了什么,在找到他去了哪儿之前,哈利以最快速度冲向地面,飞向现在失去了母龙前爪保

  护的蛋——他松手不再握住霹雷帚——他终于抓住了金蛋——再伴以一阵冲刺,哈利迅速离开。他大叫着飞越看台,那沉重的蛋安安稳稳地在他受伤的臂下,这时就仿佛有人刚把音量打开一样——他第一次,清楚地听到了人群的吵闹声,各种尖叫声喝彩声,就像世界杯赛上的爱尔兰支持者一样响亮不停。

  “看啊!”巴格蒙喊道。“请看!我们最年轻的勇士最快地取到了金蛋!啊,这可要把波特先生的奇怪举动大为降低了!”

  哈利见到龙的看守者冲去安抚号尾龙,还有,在围栏的出口那边,麦康娜教授,莫迪教授还有哈格力都急步上前与他会合,他们全都在招手,脸上的笑容隔了那么远也清晰可见。他又飞回看台,那儿的吵声几乎把他耳膜震穿,他平滑地着陆,心情是数周来最为轻松的,他通过了第一项任务,他活了下来。

  “十分出色,波特!”当哈利跨下霹雳帚时麦康娜教授喊道——这对她来说可是相当之高的评价了。哈利还注意到她的手在发抖,“你得在评委亮分前先去波姆弗雷女士那儿看伤势。就在那边,她已经治好了迪格瑞了。”

  “干得好哇,哈利!”哈格力沙哑着说。“就是干得妙!打败那号角尾龙和别的一切东西,你也知道查理说那母龙可是最难对付——”

  “谢谢,哈格力。”哈利大声说,好让哈格力别再喋喋不休,以致把他给哈利事先见过真龙的事给泄露出来。

  莫迪教授也显得相当满意,他的魔眼快活地转着。

  “干得即简洁又漂亮,波特。”他低吼道。

  “好了,波特,该去急救帐了,快。”麦康娜教授说。

  哈利走出围栏,还在端着,就看到波姆弗雷女士站在另一座帐篷门口,看起来忧心什忡。

  “龙!”她说了一个字,语气很反感,一边拉着哈利入帐。帐内隔成两个小间,透过帆布哈利认出了塞德里克的身影,他好像没受什么重伤,至少还能坐着。波姆弗雷女上检查了他的伤一直不停地愤怒地说:“去年是狂兽,今年是大龙,他们接着还要把什么带进学校呀?你是十分走运了,这只是皮肉伤,可我治疗前还是得清洗一下。”

  她用一些紫色的药水轻拍着伤口,那液体碰到伤口后冒烟还伴有刺痛感,可后来帕弗雷女士用她的魔杖戳了戳哈利的伤口,于是哈利马上觉得全好了。

  “现在,就给我乖乖地坐一分钟——光坐着!然后你才可以离开去听分数。”

  她急急走出这边帐篷,接着哈利听到她走到隔壁间,“现在觉得怎样,迪格瑞?”

  哈利可不想就这么坐着,他体内的肾上腺素还多着呢。他站起来,想出去看看外边怎么样了,可还没等他走到帐篷门口,两个人已急冲进来了——荷米恩,还有紧随其后的罗恩。

  “哈利,你太出色了!”荷米恩尖叫着说。她脸上有指甲的印子,因为她害怕时紧紧地捂住脸。“你太令人惊讶了,真的!”

  可哈利只看着罗恩,罗恩脸色苍白,像是看鬼一样看着哈利。

  “哈利,”他十分严肃地说,“无论谁把你的名字放入高脚杯中——我——我想他们是想让你参赛!”

  过去几周的事好像从未发生过——好像哈利现在是第一次见到罗恩,就在他被选为勇士之后。

  “你赶上来了,是吧?”哈利冷冷地说,“花了你够长时间的。”

  荷米恩在他俩中间紧张地站着,看看这个又看看那个。罗恩欲言又止。哈利知道他想要道歉,而突然间,发现自己根本不想听。

  “没事的,”哈利说,拦住了罗恩要说的话。“算了吧。”

  “不,”罗恩说,“我早就该——”

  “过去的事就过去吧。”哈利说。

  罗恩神经质地笑笑,哈利也回以一笑。

  荷米恩眼泪都流出来了。

  “有什么值得哭的!”哈利困惑地对她说。

  “你们两个可真傻!”荷米恩喊道,跺着脚,眼泪啪啪直往下掉。然后,在两个男孩中的任何一个可止阻止她前,荷米恩分别拥抱了他们后就跑开了,绝对是号啕大哭。

  “在喊了,”罗恩说,摇着脑袋。“快走,哈利,他们要亮你的分数了。”

  拾起金蛋和霹雳帚,哈利觉得自己开心极了,绝对是一个小时前想象不到的高兴,他弯腰出帐快速离开,罗恩就在他旁边,两人边疾走边谈。

  “你是最好的,你知道吗,毫无疑问。塞德里克干得极为古怪,他把场上的一块石头变形,变成了一只狗。想让那龙攻击那狗而不攻击他。嗯,那变形术还真不赖,也有点行得通,因为他还是拿到蛋了,但也烧伤了身子——那龙半途中改变主意决定攻击他而放弃那条狗,塞德里克勉强躲开了保命。而那个叫芙璐的女孩也试图用这种法术,我看她是想让那龙走神发呆——嗯,那也可说是奏效了,那龙昏沉沉的,然后它打起了鼾,接着一束火焰激射而出,女孩的裙子着了火——她得用魔杖变出水来救火。还有克伦——你可能不信,可他压根儿没想过要飞!他用一种法术正正击中了龙眼珠子。只不过,那龙痛得到处践踏时打碎了半数的蛋——他们要为这扣他的分,因为他是不该损伤到蛋的。”

  罗恩和哈利到达围栏边时罗恩深吸一口气。现在号角尾龙已被领走,哈利可以看见五位评委坐在那里——在另一端端坐在金布垂吊着的高椅中。

  “每个人都是十分制,”罗恩说,而哈利斜瞥了场中一眼,见到了第一位评委——玛西姆夫人——在空中举起她的魔杖。一段长长的,银色丝带状物体喷射而出,在空中扭成一个8字。

  “不赖!”罗恩说,观众也在鼓掌。“我看她从你的肩伤扣了点分。”

  克劳斯先生接着亮分,把一个数字9射入空中。

  “形势看好!”罗恩叫着,重重地拍着哈利的背部。

  下来的,是丹伯多,他也同样给了9分。人群的喝彩声高于以往任何时候。

  露得。巴格蒙了——10分。

  “10分?”哈利不敢相信。“可是,我受伤了耶,他在玩什么呀?”

  “哈利,别抱怨了!”罗恩兴奋地大叫。

  现在卡克罗夫举起了魔杖。他停顿了一会儿,然后也同样射出了一个数字——4.“什么?”罗恩愤怒地大叫。“只有4分,你这个偏心贱格的人渣,你可给了克伦10分!”

  可哈利一点也不在乎,哪怕卡克罗夫给他零分他也不在乎,罗恩为他而感到的愤慨本身就值100分了。当然他没告诉罗恩这点,可当他转身离开围栏时他的心情轻松无比。而且不仅仅是罗恩,也不仅是格林芬顿刚才在人群中为他加油。那种场合下,当大家意识到他所面对的困难时,大部分的学生都站在他这边,塞德里克也帮他,他不再介意史林德林了、他现在可以挺住他们任何的攻击了。

  “哈利!你们两个,你和克伦,打了平手!”查理。威斯里在他俩离开动身回校时急忙走上前去对他们说。“听着,我可得跑了,我得去送走玛姆和猫头鹰,我发过警要告诉她发生的一切——那太不可思议了!哦对了——他们让我告诉你再多等几分钟。巴格蒙想和你说几句话,回勇士帐里谈。”

  罗恩说他可以等一下,于是哈利又折回到帐内,现在这帐可显得大不一样了:充满友好、欢迎的气氛。他回想起闪避那龙时的感受,再对比未出帐前那漫长的等待,根本就是天壤之别。那等待实在是说不出的糟糕。

  芙璐,塞德里克和克伦全都来了。

  塞德里克的半边脸上敷着厚厚一层桔子糊,想必是用来治他的伤口的。他见到哈利时咧嘴笑笑。“好样的,哈利。”

  “你也是。”哈利也笑了。

  “你们都干得很好!”露得。巴格蒙说着进了帐,看起来快活得就像他自己越过了一条龙。“现在简短讲两句。你们在第二项任务前有一段很长又很好的休息,它将在二月二十五号的早上九点半进行——可这段时间我们也是有东西考考你们脑袋瓜子的!你们要是看看手中的金蛋,就会看到它们裂开了,见到里面的铁链了吗?你们得破解蛋内的暗示——因为暗示将告诉你们第二项任务是什么,并帮助你们去作准备!都清楚了吗?确定吗?好了,你们可以走了!”

  哈利离开帐篷,又和罗恩在一起。他们开始往回绕着树林边走边热烈地讨论著。哈利想再细致地听别的勇士是怎么完成任务的。

  然后,正当他们绕过哈利第一次听见龙吟时藏身的树丛处时,一个女巫从他俩身后蹦出。

  原来是理特。史姬特。她今天穿的是暗绿色袍子。

  “祝贺你,哈利!”她向哈利微笑着说。“你能和我说上几句吗?

  你面对大龙的感觉是怎样的?你现在对评分的公正程度又感觉如何呢?“

  “好吧,可以和你谈一个词。”哈利野蛮地说,“再见。”

  于是他和罗恩并肩走回城堡。



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