211 This is Unfair!

Madame Maxime, the first judge, raised her wand in the air. A silver ribbon shot out of its tip, which folded itself into the number eight. Mr. Crouch was next; he shot the number seven into the air.

"What the?" Tracey yelled angrily. "I thought eight was a little low, but seven???"

Oleandra glared at Mr. Crouch, though the man seemed oddly… off, again. Like he was a thousand miles away, instead of right here, where he was supposed to be judging this very important contest.

Next up was Dumbledore, who gave a score worthy of Oleandra's performance: a nine.

Ludo Bagman— nine.

And then the final judge, Professor Karkaroff, who she was expecting to be especially petty and give her a low score, gave her a six. Perhaps he thought it'd be safe to give her such a score based on Krum's forty-eight; his student was far ahead compared to Fleur and Oleandra, who respectively had scores of twenty-seven and thirty-nine.

Oleandra supposed it was fair; the Dragon she'd been facing had squashed a good number of its eggs when it had keeled over, but what exactly had she been supposed to do, then? The Chinese Fireball had just refused to get out of its nest! She had also taken less time than Delacour, but more time than Krum.

"Look at the spines on that one!" said Tracey in awe, snapping Oleandra out of her mental calculations.

The Dragon-Keepers were now dragging the final Dragon into the arena: a Hungarian Horntail. Just like its name would suggest, its tail was covered in sharp spines and ridges, but that wasn't the only place that was like a porcupine; it had large spurs on its wings, sharp quills all over its head and pointy claws. It was intimidating in a whole different way than the Chinese Fireball had been!

Bagman blew into his whistle, and Oleandra observed Harry shakily walk into the arena. The rules made it so that each champion actually had to try to win, so he couldn't even instantly give up before at least trying something, anything! Harry raised his wand above his head.

"Accio Nimbus 2000!" he shouted clearly.

Startled, Oleandra realized that Harry was going to try to play Quidditch with the Dragon by Summoning his broom. But to use a Summoning Charm to retrieve his broom, he must have left his Nimbus 2000 nearby, or at the very least, left his window open up in Gryffindor Tower, where Oleandra imagined he had stored it.

It might always have been Harry's plan to use his broom, no matter what the first task entailed. How lucky of him! A broom would give him the mobility to run circles around a stationary nesting Dragon. And that's exactly what he did; once he had his broom secured between his legs and he was airborne, Harry kept darting close to the Dragon before drawing away quickly. This was visibly annoying the Hungarian Horntail, which was only trying to protect its eggs.

Eventually, it seemed to have had enough; it coiled itself back, waiting for Harry to come closer, following his movements with its opal-like eyes. And in an instant, it sprang, jaws open wide! Harry immediately reacted, executing a near-perfect Wronksi Feint, diving under its jaws! Unfortunately, a Nimbus 2000 wasn't built for such demanding manoeuvres. Harry had made it past the Dragon's front-end, generally considered to be the most dangerous part of any animal, but unfortunately, he didn't manage to pull up in time to avoid the Dragon's swiping tail, which tore through his robes and slashed his back open, showering the ground in blood.

"Ooh, that had to hurt," Oleandra said, squeezing her golden egg tightly.

Still, Harry fought through the pain, zooming behind the Dragon and seizing the golden egg! The moment he touched his prize, the task was considered over, and the Dragon-Keepers rushed in to Stun the Hungarian Horntail before it ate Harry in a single bite.

"Make way, make way!" cried Madam Pomfrey, rushing out of the first-aid tent, not even waiting for Harry to be brought before her. "Don't touch him!"

She stabilized Harry, before carrying back to her tent with a, "Mobilicorpus!"

"Well," said Daphne. "That was certainly something."

"At least they managed to save the broom," Oleandra joked, slightly relieved that Harry would be fine.

"It was foolish of him to try to attempt a Wronski Feint with a Nimbus 2000," said Tracey, ever the analytical sports fan. "It used to be seen as a purely theoretical move until the Firebolt came out; possible in theory, but impossible to execute reliably without a beast of a broom, even with competition-grade brooms of the time."

In Quidditch, the goal of a Wronski Feint was to induce the rival Seeker to follow one into a dive, before pulling up at the last second, making them crash into the ground. In Harry's case a few moments earlier, the rival participant of his Wronski Feint would have been the Dragon's jaws. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't pull up fast enough to avoid the second enemy player: the Dragon's tail, which slashed him across the back. It was called Horntail for a reason!

"He got badly hurt, but he managed to obtain his egg the fastest out of any of you," said Daphne thoughtfully. "Depending on how the judges choose how to allocate points, he might get a relatively high score."

The crowd didn't have to wait long for the score; a few minutes later, Harry was out of the first-aid tent good as new, flanked by his two friends Ron and Hermione. It looked as though Harry had made up with Ron, at the very least. Oleandra was not a fan of the constant drama between the two.

Madame Maxime gave Harry a seven, which Oleandra judged to be fair. Professor Dumbledore gave him an eight, which was still fair. However, this is where things got strange: Mr. Crouch gave him a nine, Mr. Bagman gave him a ten and Professor Karkaroff gave him a four. A grand total of thirty-eight, putting him in third place behind Oleandra and Krum. Oleandra felt slightly guilty when she felt relief that he hadn't exceeded her score.

In any case, what was up with Crouch's and Bagman's scores? Were they that big fans of Quidditch? What about Harry's gaping wounds? Oleandra consoled herself with the fact that she at least had him beaten in points, even if it was only by one.