23 Judged

"Parseltongue"

"Normal talk"

'Thoughts'

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He was falling.

Someone let out a trill and he slowed down.

He kept slipping in and out of consciousness.

'What was that?' he sluggishly wondered while trying to open his eyes.

Something huge had just crashed.

'Oh, I'm on the ground,' Harry observed, wincing as someone cast a lumos near him.

Trill.

'You were reckless, child,' accused Fawkes through their soul bond.

The phoenix was once again, shedding tears on Harry's wounds.

'I know, but everything worked out in the end,' he replied weakly, already feeling better as Fawkes' tears performed their miracles. However, he also felt every single one of his reckless stunts now that the adrenaline had stopped pumping through him.

"Dumbledore's coming along with the other judges," Ash hissed from under Harry's head.

He was acting as a makeshift pillow…

'Can you flash us away Fawkes?'

'Only after I finish healing you,' came the bird's reply; he sounded as calm as ever.

"Oh, Harry, my boy… What have you done? You've killed the dragon," Dumbledore said in the most 'I'm deeply disappointed in you' voice Harry had ever heard coming from the man.

As the man drew closer, Harry realised it was he who cast the light spell that was hurting his eyes.

"The dragon that was also trying to kill me, need I remind you," Harry said back, evenly, trying his best not to show weakness despite his circumstances.

Dumbledore was no doubt about to pull some other bullshit from his ass but Harry cut him off.

"Do you mind?" he hinted, nudging at the older man's wand.

If he was to be interrogated while unable to move, he'd rather not have to strain his eyes just to look.

"Of course, but you'll have to dispel that dark spell you cast first," Dumbledore replied, pointing at the darkened sky.

'Did I do that?'

'Yes,' came two replies in his mind.

'Wow, that's kind of cool, not gonna lie…'

Harry opened his right hand and intended for magic to bring him his wand.

Magic, not one to disappoint, did as asked, and brought Harry his magical focus which was on the ground next to him.

"Finite magicae," he hissed lightly, wondering whether that parseltongue spell would be enough to dispel his last spell's effects.

His sudden slip in the language of snakes made the onlookers flinch and step back.

Luckily for all, the magic counter spell seemed to work as the dark clouds that had gathered, started dispersing.

"Where and when did you even learn such vile magics, young man? Was it while you threw another childish tantrum and skipped your classes? We'll have to talk about your actions and their consequences later in my office," the headmaster said, deep inside his grandfatherly persona.

Yeah, Harry wasn't going to do that…

The only reason he wasn't trying to crawl away was because the other judges were there and Dumbledore wouldn't dare harm him in public.

He had an image to hold after all…

"Of course, headmaster," he said, not showing any signs of defiance to the older man.

'Are you finishing soon?' Harry asked the phoenix.

'Yes, don't worry. There's no way you will be having "a talk" with Dumbledore again, not any time soon,' Fawkes stated.

"No, the boy should be thrown in prison! He cast the killing curse as soon as he got inside the pit and who knows what that last spell he used was," shouted someone.

Harry, with a great deal of effort and help from Ash, turned his head to see the person who spoke.

The man was tall and thin, not unlike Dumbledore, and had a cringing cheerful demeanour that showcased his yellow teeth.

'Karkaroff,' he realised, almost laughing out loud.

During his seclusion, Harry had not forgone to read upon the first wizarding war of the magical Britain.

Needless to say, he knew every caught death eater by hand, including the man who had just talked.

"Professor Igor Karkaroff, Headmaster of Durmstrang Institute and a known Death Eater who served Lord Voldemort. The only reason you are not inside Britain's homely prison, Azkaban as you know, is because you turned in several of your fellow Death Eaters. Tell me, are you sure you want to press force the issue? Know that if you want a fight, you death scum, I'll give you war," Harry finished, his eyes flashing to a killing-curse green and making the man go ashen white.

'You'll probably want to know that you killed Ozeth a moment before the time countdown concluded,' supplied Fawkes through their bond, causing a smirk to appear on Harry's lips.

His occlumency was starting to slip and so was his control of his emotions.

Getting healed had increased his fatigue even more…

"Er, Mr. Bagman..." drawing the plump man's attention.

"My bad, I meant Mr. Crouch… Please remind our companions about a champion's rights, yawn, during a task," he muttered, unable to stop the yawn from worming its way out.

Harry's words caused the tired-looking man's eyes to widen.

"What Mister Potter is talking about, as you too should know, is that no champion can be pressed charges for their actions during the tasks. Taking in mind that every single spell we saw the young man cast was before the task ended, nothing he did could be counted as a crime," said the man, his narrow toothbrush moustache twitching whilst he talked.

"They are trying to mess with the dragon's body," Ashe hissed, garnering everyone's attention.

Some even were so shocked that they drew their wands on the snake.

"What the fuck are you doing? SStop pointing your wands at my face and my familiar," Harry growled and despite his pathetic position at that moment, he managed to look threatening.

The fact that he had just slain a dragon and darkened the skies helped.

'We can leave when you are ready,' said Fawkes, pleasing Harry now that his escape was secured.

Upon hearing his words, everyone but one stashed their wands in their respective holsters.

"Now, can someone explain to me why are the dragon handlers trying to move away my possession?" Harry inquired, doing his utmost best to conceal that his body started shaking.

"What are you talking about, my boy?" Dumbledore finally managed to jump back into the conversation.

"I'm confident that you all saw me declaring a right to conquest to the dragon and that it was accepted. So unless you want the dragon handlers to tempt magic by trying to take what is mine, I advise you to tell them to stay their hands," Harry rasped.

It was now taking inhumane efforts for him just to stay awake.

"And pray fucking tell, why the fuck is Snape here with you and still pointing hisss wand at me?" he asked, closing his eyes as they became too heavy.

Harry didn't catch the man's scathing remarks as Fawkes flashed them away.

"We're inside the chamber," he heard Asmodeus hiss before finally allowing Morpheus to take him in, allowing him to escape the mundane world's presence.

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Short chapter.

Daniel Sbai and Richárd Buzás, love you <3.< p>

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