The Power He Knows Not Chapter 14 (Patreon)

Content Warning: Nothing.

“What’re you doing?” Daphne hissed, her eyes fixed on the arena in front of them. Hermione had wrangled them choice seats as close to the action as possible and the only downside to her arrangement with the Weasley twins was that Daphne had to sit and listen to them debate the odds of her boyfriend surviving his fight with the dragon.

I’m going to kill them if they lower his odds any further, Daphne thought, balefully staring at the Twins seated behind her. I’m going to find a nice secluded place and-

“Warning Harry,” Padma replied from next to her, breaking her free from her thoughts.

“About?”

“You saw Krum’s performance, right?”

Daphne nodded without pulling her eyes away from Fleur. The champion from Beauxbaton was singing a melodious tune as she weaved through the fire-blasted rocks of the arena. It seemed to be a sleeping charm of sorts, and even the faint notes that reached up to the stands were enough to dull her brain. The already docile Welsh Green was flailing around the stadium, trying its best to catch the source of the melody. “The Conjunctivitis Charm is our only plan and hope, Padma. Even if the judges dock points for repetitiveness, don’t you dare tell him not to use it! How are you communicating with him anyway?”

“Do you remember the ribbon I tied to his wrist?”

“Yeah, gaudy little thing. Brings good luck. Your aunt-”

“Grandmother,” Padma corrected.

“Right. Grandmother gave it to you.”

“Well, that’s not entirely true.”

“You lied to him?” Daphne asked her voice a mixture of exasperation and respect.

“A little white lie! To bolster his courage. You said cheating was allowed in the tournament, right?”

“It’s not allowed. More like everyone is expected to cheat, which Daphne took as tacit approval to cheat as much as possible,” Hermione answered tersely from the other side of their bench.

“You best believe I’m going to throw those smoke bombs into the arena, Granger. They’re going to slip out of my bag.”

“And if you get in trouble?”

“Then my father makes a… generous donation to the Hogwarts Board. Patil, tell me what that ribbon has to do with communicating with Harry.”

“Well, my sister gave it to me. You see, ever since she found Lavender and became a man-eater I’m basically a footnote in her life,” Padma said with a hint of jealousy in her voice. “The wallflower at her parties. I told her I wanted more time with her as my gift before our last birthday, so she gave me that ribbon at the party and left me alone by the lake to go sleep with Terry Boot in the greenhouse. We can write and send messages to each other through them. Since that day she’s used it a whole… zero times. So I went up to her yesterday to ask her for her ribbon and gave Harry mine. This way we can keep in touch with him in real-time.”

Daphne finally glanced at the Ravenclaw. The chocolate-skinned girl was hunched over, scribbling on the red ribbon laid out on her satchel with a magnificent eagle quill. “That’s… I’m proud of you, my devious little raven. How will he know you’re sending him a message?”

“The ribbon gets warm whenever a message is written. That’s why I tied it around his wrist, so he’d feel it when we sent him something.”

Daphne glanced back at the arena as a section of the stadium erupted in cheers. Fleur was glancing up at the judge’s stand with a massive smile on her face, the large golden egg they were tasked to retrieve cradled in her arms. The dragon handlers were already moving in to secure the sleeping dragon while the judges conferred amongst themselves, doling out scores out of ten one after the other. It was all over in a matter of minutes and Fleur practically sprinted out of the exit, clearly eager to have Madame Pomfrey tend to her singed hair.

“You might be-” Daphne paused, heaving a sigh of relief at the sight of Cedric stumbling into the arena, looking as white as a sheet. “Harry’s next, Patil. Whatever you’re telling him, tell him quickly.”

“I’m trying. It’s not easy to write a lot on something this small. My sister isn’t exactly practical with her gifts,” Padma hissed, furiously scribbling on the red ribbon. She was supremely glad she had splurged on a self-inking quill during the last visit to Hogsmeade, which she was trying her damnedest not to think about because thinking about it brought up forbidden images of Harry and the gorgeous blonde sitting next to her and this was neither the time nor the place for her fantasies.

“What exactly are you telling him?”

“That he needs to draw his dragon away from the nest.”

“Are you insane?! The golden egg is in the nest. Why are you asking him to go away from his objective?!”

“Krum used the Conjunctivitis Curse, right? His dragon flailed around in pain and crushed a bunch of its own eggs. Did you see Karkaroff’s face when that happened?”

“As a general rule, I try not to look at that evil git if possible.”

“Well, I did. He winced. Now, judging by what Susan has told me about him, he doesn’t look like the kind of man to feel sorry for any kind of creature. No, I think keeping the eggs safe is part of the scoring criteria. That would explain Krum’s low score.”

“Alright, I got it. I don’t like it, but the logic is sound. What else are you telling him? Because you’re still scribbling Patil, and that’s making me nervous!”

“Fleur’s performance confirmed my suspicions. Dragons are basically large snakes and are susceptible to hypnosis,” Padma replied, sucking in the quill between her lips as she pondered the most concise way in which she could frame her advice.

“Harry isn’t a Veela, Patil. He can’t simply sing a lullaby to put his dragon to sleep.” Daphne glanced at Hermione who had now covered her face with her hands, unable to see the carnage play out before her. Cedric’s attempts to distract his dragon with a transfigured dog was going… poorly. “Our book-inclined friend is of no use here. It’s up to us. Explain your plan to me like I’m Goyle, Patil. Like I’m dumber than the dumbest rock in that arena.”

“Okay, so I’m telling Harry to summon his Firebolt under the cover of the smoke you’re going to generate with your trick bombs. He then flies up in the air, but does so in circles-”

“Thereby disorienting the dragon,” Daphne cut in, her lips curling into a small smile as she understood the basics of her friend’s plan.

“Exactly. He doesn’t have to sing to hypnotize the dragon. There are other ways. The circular motion of his flight is crude, but it’s good enough. As the dragon is hypnotized, its eyes will grow bigger.”

“Bigger eyes mean a bigger target.”

“Mhm. Harry uses the Conjunctivitis Curse and while the dragon is dazed, confused, and flailing around in the air in pain, he dives down and grabs the Golden Egg.”

“So it’s high-stakes Quidditch. The egg is the snitch. Did you send him all the details he needs?”

“Basically. And yes, I did,” Padma said, rolling up the ribbon on her lap. “Do you think it’ll work?” Padma asked, a hint of nervousness creeping into her voice.

“It better. Because it’s Harry’s turn now,” Daphne muttered, watching a heavily burned Cedric stumble out of the stadium. Her boyfriend entered to the sound of bugles, looking way less terrified than the other champions had been. She didn’t know if his newfound confidence was infuriating or heartening.

“Thanks for getting us seats right by the arena,” Daphne whispered to Hermione. Hermione simply grunted and curled up into a ball.

Daphne shook her head, discreetly unzipping her bag. She pushed it against the guardrail, letting the six large balls inside it roll out and drop into the arena below. She had charmed them so that any large impact would activate their timers and she started to count down from ten as she watched the balls roll downhill toward the newly released dragon.

Harry was playing it safe, ducking behind rocks for cover and minimizing any and all exposure to the enraged Hungarian Horntail that was trying to zero in on him. Daphne grinned as the bombs exploded with loud cracks, confusing and disorienting the dragon as they released their thick black smoke. Before long the entire arena was obscured from view, the dragon stomping around in a futile effort to locate Harry.

The Horntail’s sense of smell, one of its biggest strengths, was now useless. Pungent black smoke now filled its nostrils and the same stung its eyes, leaving only its sense of hearing functional. She wasn’t too worried about Harry. A Bubble Charm had been one of three he had learned for the Task, and thus he was completely safe from the effects of the smoke.

And if there was one thing Harry Potter excelled in, it was sneaking around.

Daphne leaned back and unzipped the bag that contained his Firebolt, so helpfully smuggled into the stadium by the Weasley twins. Her good mood was almost enough to forgive them for accepting bets against Harry. Almost.

“Accio!” Came the clear and inevitable cry from somewhere inside the smoke and the broom shot up in the air behind her. She ducked just in time, the broomstick whizzing through the air where her head had been in its quest to return to the master that had summoned it.

Daphne watched as Harry flew up into the air in graceful spirals, the already disoriented dragon finally locating its prey. The Horntail fluttered its great wings and pushed its large body into the air, its eyes flitting rapidly as it tried to keep Harry in its sights.

Daphne watched Harry keep spiraling, flying just out of reach of the beast’s fire and jaws. She could see the dragon’s eyes grow bigger with every passing second, its flying slowing down as its wings flapped erratically. She knew it was only a matter of minutes before Harry had the perfect opportunity to hex the Horntail’s eyes and she prayed to Merlin, Morgana, and every god she had read about to ensure her boyfriend wouldn’t miss.

The dragon, in its frustration, twisted and tried to slam its spiked tail into Harry only for the accomplished flier to nimbly dodge the incoming danger.

It’s exactly like Quidditch, High-stakes, deadly Quidditch. Daphne thought, watching the dragon’s eyes grow to what she knew would be their biggest extent. NOW!

It was almost like Harry had read her mind. He extended his wand in the creature’s direction, his shouted words lost to the wind. But there was no mistaking the bright red jet that sped through the air… slamming square into the dragon’s eye.

SCORE!

Daphne had jumped out of her seat in jubilation, and she wasn’t the only one. Half of Hogwarts joined her and she could have sworn she saw Professor McGonagall do a discreet fist pump.

The dragon roared and twisted blindly in the air, blanketing everything around it in flames. Harry was long gone, plunging down towards the next that was now barely visible through the haze of the clearing smoke. He balanced himself on the broom, grabbed the egg, and landed on the ground with a graceful roll to thunderous applause.

The champion to complete the Task in record time and the only one to do it without sustaining a single major injury.

She was going to snog him. She didn’t care if the whole school was watching. She was going to go down there and snog him.

She thundered down the steps, but she wasn’t the only one. Padma was not too far behind him, both girls stumbling out of the stadium and running to the champion’s tent. Madame Pomfrey had now requisitioned it to treat the champions’ injuries. They ignored her scowls and shouted admonishments, stumbling into the arena and making their way through the uneven trenches toward Harry.

Daphne slammed into him first, followed soon after by Padma and Harry hugged them both with his arms, chuckling quietly.

“You did it,” Daphne whispered, tilting his head towards her for a kiss. The stadium erupted into cheers once more. The judges mostly watched with disapproval, and Daphne could see Malfoy turn a rather disgusting shade of red from the corner of her eyes.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Harry whispered against her lips. “Or you,” he murmured, turning to Padma and kissing her cheek.

The girl’s eyes widened, and she opened and closed her mouth wordlessly, looking like she was about to faint.

“Let’s see the scores,” Daphne said, all three of them turning to look at the judges. All of them twisted the golden ribbons produced from their wands in a nine or a ten with the exception of Madame Maxime, who gave Harry an eight, and Karkaroff, who gave him a four.

“Biased bastard,” Daphne growled under her breath. “He gave Krum a ten even after he caused the poor dragon to smash her own eggs. One day I’m going to-”

“Hush, little one,” Harry whispered, gently squeezing her hand. “It’s alright. I’m just grateful to be alive.”

“Harry Potter. Never doubted you for a second,” Fred said, clasping Harry’s shoulder from behind.

“You took bets against him, Weasley,” Daphne scowled.

“Just business, my irascible viper,” George shot back. “Besides, Harry came first and netted us a cool ninety galleons in the process. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“What does that mean Georgie boy?”

“The party to end all parties, Freddie dear,” George grinned, his eyes glinting with suppressed excitement as the group walked out of the emptying stadium.

                                                              ---

Gryffindor Common Room:

The Gryffindor Common Room was a noisy mixture of booze, retellings of Harry’s tryst with the dragon, and music that night. Hermione was seated alone on the comfortable armchair by the fireplace, nursing a glass of firewhiskey to calm her fried nerves. It had been a hell of a day, and she wasn’t quite sure she had the constitution to survive two more tasks like the one she had to sit through today.

She knew Harry had it much worse, but having to sit and watch him face mortal danger without joining him like in their previous adventures was pure torture.

She was broken out of her reverie by an awkward cough. She slowly turned in her seat, raising an eyebrow at the sight of their ex-best friend sitting down on the chair next to hers.

“Ron,” she greeted him warily. She wasn’t in the mood for another one of his temper tantrums, and she made up her mind to retreat to her dorm if the conversation veered in that direction. “What’d you want to talk about?” she asked bluntly.

Ron cleared his throat, speaking slowly as if he was struggling to come up with the right words, “I just wanted to know where… Harry was. He’s not at his own party.”

“Why?”

“I uh… I wanted to apologize to him. For thinking he put his name in the Goblet.”

“What, Susan’s word wasn’t good enough for you?” Hermione asked tartly. “You had to wait for a dragon to nearly eat him alive before deciding your best friend would never do such a thing? Not that it should have mattered, because his promise should have been enough in the first place!”

“You have to consider my thoughts too, Hermione!” Ron protested loudly, progressively growing redder in the face. “I woke up and his bed was empty that night.”

“Because he snuck out to see Susan. Who, by the way, he had to keep hidden from us because he was afraid of you scaring her away!”

“Why would I do that?” Ron asked grumpily. “I mean, she’s not as bad as that Slytherin b-”

“I’d choose your words very carefully if I was you, Ron,” Hermione said wearily. There was no reasoning with their friend. He’d see the right path eventually, but the stubborn ass would do it in his own time. “Harry has hexed people for less. And no sane person in this castle wants to end up on Daphne Greengrass’ shit list. I suggest you be smart and avoid that fate.”

Hermione took a deep breath. “As for why he hid her from you… Ron, you act like the world is ending if a couple kisses in the Common Room. Those two can’t keep their hands off each other. Do you really think Harry would risk his idiot best friend calling his soulmate something stupid or demeaning?”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Yes, you would, Ron. You nearly called another woman he loves a bitch. Just be grateful Daphne is out ‘settling scores’, whatever that means, and not at this party,” Hermione muttered, massaging her temples.

“If Susan’s his soulmate I don’t get why he gets to date you and that Slytherin… girl,” Ron said, pouting petulantly.

He’s still jealous. He thinks I’m a blob who does his homework and now he’s suddenly jealous that another man is treating me like a woman.

Hermione sighed. “He doesn’t get to do anything, Ron. Daphne wants to date him. I want to date him. So we are,” Hermione explained patiently. If the only good thing that came out of her fake dating scheme with Harry was Ron changing his attitude toward women, she’d consider it well worth the effort.

“So what, if every gal in the castle wants a go at him, he’s allowed to date them all?”

“If he wants to, and if his other partners have no objections to it, yes.”

“So you’re saying you have no objection to it,” Ron grunted, turning the shade of a beetroot.

“I didn’t say that, but now that you mention it, yes.” Hermione snapped her book shut. “Harry can snog every girl in the castle if he wants to. It’ll finally give me a break to do some reading. He’s insatiable. I haven’t been able to walk properly for a week,” Hermione lied, her eyes glinting angrily. If Ron was going to act like a jealous prick, she was more than happy to give him a reason to be one.

She got to her feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted. I wouldn’t stay up, Ron. I doubt he’s coming back tonight. He’s gone out to celebrate his victory with one of his many, many, many lovers.”

With that parting shot, she left, leaving a red-faced Ron to open and close his mouth wordlessly like a fish.

                                                                ---

The Hospital Wing:

“What’re you doing here? Padma told me there’s a party in Gryffindor Tower!” Susan admonished, putting the book she had been reading down on her lap. Despite her gentle scolding, she sported a huge smile on her face, readily scooting over to make space for Harry on the hospital bed.

“Too noisy. Plus, it doesn’t have you. Who’ll I snog? Daphne? I think the school has seen enough PDA from the two of us for a while,” Harry murmured, climbing under the blanket and leaning back against the mountain of pillows.

“I heard,” Susan mumbled with a quiet chuckle. “It’s okay to say you miss me, Harry.” She curled up into his chest, closing her eyes and focusing on his heartbeat.

“I missed you, my sweet angel.”

                                                             ---

Draco Malfoy’s Dorm:

“What’re we doing here? This room stinks Daph, let’s get out of here,” Tracey muttered from under Harry’s invisibility cloak, clamping her nose shut with her fingers. The dorm room was deserted but they didn’t take off the cloak in case one of the boys decided to unexpectedly come up from the Common Room.

“Hush Tracey.” Daphne clutched the bottle of hair-removal potion she had demanded from Fred in her hands. “To the bathroom. We’re going to make the ferret’s life a living hell.”

Notes:

Padma is a genius, Daphne is a true viper, ah, this chapter was so much fun to write. Also the task itself, which was a little more involved than out flying a dragon. Who will open the Yule Ball with Harry? Whoever it is, I can guarantee all 3 ladies will have their special time with Harry on that magical night. Again, there's no Ron bashing, but Hermione is going to need pliers to pull his head out of his ass. He can either be jealous about what Harry has, or work on bettering himself and everyone (myself included) wants the latter.