Chapter 158: Blinding and Rope (2/2)
The dragon pulled her head back and used her wingtips to cover her eyes.
”Ah, another one, the Conjunctivitis Curse,” said the announcer's voice,” a curse that irritated the target's eyes, forcing them to swell shut. Dragons were notably susceptible to this curse because while their hide made them resistant to most spells, their eyes remained vulnerable. Another pro-tip for you people: while every other part of a dragon's body is durable as hell, their eyes are more squishy than ours. So poke 'em there because it hurts a lot.”
According to his plans, Krum had only planned to temporarily impair the dragon's eyesight so that he could get to the egg and complete the task. But now, not only had impaired vision, but he had also launched a spell that caused injury to the dragon.
He knew this was the moment. Krum stood up and rushed to the middle of the arena with his eyes set on the golden prize.
The Chinese Fireball finally had enough; her mouth hurt, and she couldn't open her eyes; her babies were unprotected. She let her instincts take over and moved her head towards the direction of the nest; she could smell her own scent on the eggs.
A deep red illuminated her throat as she opened her jaw.
Krum was within spitting distance of the nest when he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He turned back and saw a vivid jet of fire coming towards him. His eyes widened; he looked ahead and dove for the egg. His hands caught the egg as he rolled over to his back, and with a body roll, he was back onto his feet.
But his work wasn't over yet. He saw a dragon handler entering the arena, and the man pointed at the two large rocks, and Krum didn't need to be told twice. He sprinted and once again dove ahead, this time into the crevice between the two rocks.
”Aargh!” screamed Krum as a back was singed just before he could get to safety. He fell to the ground, but his hands clutched the egg as if it was the snitch in the World Cup finals.
Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass; Krum had finished.
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Harry stood up, noticing dimly that his legs seemed to be made of marshmallows. He waited. And then Harry 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, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground.
The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but Harry didn't know or care whether friendly or not. 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.. .
His mind went back to the two weeks he spent listening to Quinn, who he had just seen in the judge's box.
He raised his wand.
”Accio Golden Egg,” he shouted. The egg didn't move at all. ”Well, worth the try.”
The Horntail covered the area around the eggs pretty well; as such, he couldn't use the transfiguration trick to Accio the eggs to him.. . and the grappling tactic.. . and the push-up tactic.. .
'Hell! Every tactic he taught me is useless with the Horntail in the way.' If Quinn had heard Harry's thoughts, he would've used every tactic he had taught Harry before staring him down for a solid minute.
He made his decision.
”Accio Firebolt!” he shouted.
In the judge's box, Quinn sighed and cut the Sonorus just so that he could mutter, ”Idiot.”
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.. .. Quinn was shouting something. .. but Harry's ears were not working correctly anymore. .. listening wasn't necessary.. . .
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 pinpricks 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.. .. Harry 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. 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 precisely where he would have been having he not swerved away.
”Well, at least he can fly,” sighed Quinn.
Harry tried a couple more times to draw out the Horntail and dodged the dragon's breath as many times as he attempted. But 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.
”It seems that, unlike the other mother dragons, this one has taken an entirely different approach; a defensive approach,” spoke Quinn, his sonorous back on.
Harry knew he had to take the risk. He started to fly low, sticking to the walls of the arena. Slowly the speed of state-of-the-art Firebolt increased; soon, the Horntail was having trouble keeping up with Harry, and he knew it was the right moment.
He made a hard turn, and with a booming speed of his Firebolt, he instantly closed the distance between him and the dragon. But the second he was close to the dragon, the Horntail swiped her head toward Harry and already had a fire working in her throat.
But the Gryffindor Seeker was ready; he pulled up and flew up hard on a sharp angle, just missing the fire. But despite the danger, Harry had a big smile on his face. His wand was in his hand, and from it extended an orange-red cord of light on whose other end hung a shining golden egg.
”Carpe Retracturm.. .” said the student, and outside the arena, the teacher finished, ”.. . for the win.”
Harry Potter had grabbed the golden egg, without injury and overall that he had done it faster than any other candidate.
'Well, that wasn't half bad,' thought Quinn in the box and shrugged, 'Well, I trained him; he should at least get this level of results.'
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Quinn West - MC - ”I will take partial credit.”
Victor Krum - Status: Crisp - Approach: Conjunctivitis Curse.
Harry Potter - Status: Uninjured and feeling good - Approach: Carpe Retractum.
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