I in no way own Harry Potter, both books and films. Any fanfiction written by me is purely for my own and for other people's entertainment.

'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.

'Its all right,' Moody said, 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 a harsh laugh, and his magical eye swivelled around so fast it made Harry feel queasy to watch it.

'So...got any ideas on how you're going to get past your dragon?'

'No.' Harry said.

'Well, I'm not going to tell you,' said Moody gruffly. 'I don't show favouritism, 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,' Harry said, 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? What makes you stand out from the crowd?'

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

Harry opened his mouth, the words Quidditch on his lips before he realised something, closing them quickly. No, he couldn't claim to stand out from the crowd with Quidditch. He was already being seen of as a cheat by Hogwarts and the Wizarding world. No doubt, Krum would be using a broom as well. To be seen of as using the same technique as a champion, especially one who was world-renowned as the best seeker in the world, would make his situation much, much worst.

Slowly, he began to think more about what he was best at. Moody, who watched Harry grow deep in thought, remained silent, a harsh smile upon his lips as his single remaining eye watched Harry intently, the magical eye zooming around the room, checking for intruders or listening devices.

My reflexes...Harry thought, gained from the years spent with the Dursleys. A lifetime of dodging punches and stones from the younger Dursley of the family had installed within him a lifelong instinct of dodging, ducking and weaving. It was possibly the most useful thing that Dudley had ever done for him.

My bravery...a true Gryffindor, so many people have remarked upon that, nearly all of them saying that word in the same sentence as "your father". It was quite a blow against his own self-worth, if Harry was honest with himself. What person wanted to be associated with their father for the rest of his or her life? It was bad enough with the title "Boy-Who-Lived", which again was quite pathetic, as he was famous for surviving where other people hadn't. If you really thought about it, it was a shameful thing for Harry, that he had lived where his parents had not...where Sirius was arrested for the murder of his parents and sentenced unjustly for twelve long years in the cold, damp walls of Azkaban, populated only by the wicked, the mad and the Dementors.

So what was Harry good at? What did make him stand out from the crowd? His mind went through the events of his past years...flying with Buckbeak...his scar...his status...Lord Voldemort's nemesis... Suddenly, his mind halted at his second year at Hogwarts. The year when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened, and one of the most terrifying years of his life had taken place. Lord Voldemort's imprint of a spirit had come back to Hogwarts in the form of his old diary, possessing Ginny, Ron's youngest sister, and causing havoc in the school. At least four people had been petrified by the Basilisk, including one of his best friends, well, best friend really now, Hermione Granger, a Muggleborn student and one of the smartest witches in the entire school. Harry had been marked out because of his ability to speak Parsletongue, renowned for being one of the traits that the founding member of Slytherin, Salazar Slytherin. It was also known as what marked a dark wizard. Given Harry's past, it was obvious that this was both disturbing and terrifying for both Harry and Hogwarts.

Therefore, using it in the tournament would without a doubt make him stand out in the crowd. Of course, in doing so, it would cause the crowd to stand away from him. But now the idea had hit Harry, he found it very hard to release it. He chewed his lip nervously as Moody waited patiently. He didn't know what to do...was Parsletongue evil? And if so, did it make him evil? He'd never felt that he was evil, but could an evil person tell whether he was evil? He needed help...he quickly thought immediately of going to Dumbledore, before realising that as a tournament judge, he couldn't be seen to show favouritism and nor could he assist Harry with anything regarding the First Task. That instantly counted him out. He could go to Professor McGonagall, but could he honestly say that she would know how to help him with his Parsletongue problem? So who could help him? Flitwick? He didn't know the Professor well enough for that. Trelawney? Yeah, if he wanted to have several predictions of his death during the First Task thrown at him, then yeah. Snape? Well that would go down really well, wouldn't it(!) Suddenly, his mind snapped to the person in front of him. Could Moody help? It was said that he was a famous Auror, so he surely would've dealt with dark magic before. Perhaps he could help Harry! He had already given him help, even if he would deny it at every turn.

Harry looked up, focusing on Moody's one good eye, not wanting to look into the spinning glass eye that was quite sickening if you focused on it for too long.

'Professor Moody...' Harry hesitantly started.

'Have you thought of something, Potter? Come on then lad, spit it out!'

'Well...there is one particular thing that I know that I'm good at, and will be able to use without being accused of a cheat by everyone.'

Moody's face looked confused, but he waved for Harry to go on. 'Yes, go on.'

'Well...I need your advice on it. Is...is being a Parslemouth evil?'

Moody stared at him as for the first time that Harry ever met Moody, shock was spread across his face mixed with disbelief. Moody continued staring at Harry for a few seconds, before he broke out into a rusty old roar of laughter, pounding his knees with a fist. Harry watched in astonishment as Moody continued to roar with laughter for at least two minutes, before he calmed down sufficiently to be able to talk, wiping a tear from his eye.

'Oh...Merlin Potter, you slay me. Parslemouth's being evil...by the gods.' He shook his head in mirth, sitting up straight.

'So...' Harry looked at the floor in shame, 'being a Parsletongue does make me evil.'

'Great Gods no!' Moody yelled loudly, causing Harry to jump in surprise and shock.

'But – but you just said that –'

'Potter, I wasn't laughing because being a Parslemouth was evil, why, quite the contrary! Potter, I have met many wizards in my time, some of them great, others meek. Each person I met is as individual from the next person, but there is one thing you can count of them being. They follow one of the three paths of magic, whether they know it or not.'

'The three paths of magic?' Harry asked, confused.

For the second time that day, Moody stared at him in shock, disbelief spread over his face. 'Potter, are you telling me that you don't know what the three paths of magic are?' At Harry's hesitant nod of the head, Moody stood up, disbelief still on his face. 'Potter, are you seriously telling me that in the four years that you have been at Hogwarts, you have not heard a single word about the three paths of magic?'

Harry blushed slightly as he shook his head. 'I never really paid much attention in History of Magic, Professor Moody.'

'Don't be daft boy; the three paths of magic should at least crop up in each lesson at least once every month! What on earth are they teaching you at this school?' He looked at Harry intently. 'Potter, look me in the eyes and tell me truthfully whether you know for sure that you have never at least once been told about the three paths of magic?'

'Quite sure, Professor.'

'Dear Merlin...' Moody said, burying his head in his hands. 'I don't bloody believe this. There is no excuse whatsoever for the three paths of magic to not be taught in Hogwarts, let alone mentioned! What the hell has Dumbledore done to this old place, I ask you?'

Harry remained silent as Moody paced up and down his office, his face frowning in thought. He then looked at Harry, pulling out his wand and summoning a blackboard and a piece of chalk to him. Levitating the chalk with his wand, he walked to the side of Harry, writing at the top "The Three Paths of Magic".

'Potter, I admit that I didn't expect to be teaching today on a Saturday. However, I am willing to make an exception in your case because I believe that this single lesson that I will be teaching you will be more important than anything else that you've learnt before. I have little doubt that the same will apply to whatever you learn in the future.'

'Now, there are three types of magic. Dark, elemental and Light. Now, as you've no doubt guessed, Dumbledore is strictly for the light. If my guess is correct, and you can be damned sure it usually is, in not teaching the three paths of magic, his intention is to limit the students' knowledge to that of the Light path. Now, everything you've learnt so far in Hogwarts will be in the Light section. Dark magic, for example, involves the Unforgivable curses, which we've already covered earlier this term. Contrary to popular belief, there is no such thing as Grey Magic. You may only choose between Light and Dark, as to go down one path is to abandon the other. There are no half-measures, Potter; you may only go one way. An example of this would be our very own Headmaster and You-Know-Who. Dumbledore, as I have said before, is strictly light. There is no way that he could become Dark, even if he wanted too. He has practiced only light magic since leaving school, and to go down the Dark Path now would cause his magic to block up. In short, his magic would dissolve and he would be consumed by it, becoming twisted and something not of this world. The same would apply for You-Know-Who, but in this case, he has gone farther than the average Dark wizard. He had gone through several rituals expanding and consolidating his Dark magic. He, quite simply, is one of the greatest wizards to ever walk down the Dark Path, just as Dumbledore is one of the greatest wizards to walk down the Light Path. I have to tell you, Potter, that it's a fortunate thing that the two of them decided to come about when the other did. I have little doubt that if there were but one of them, then our world would be greatly different from what it is today, and would reflect the private beliefs of either one of them.'

'Now, elemental magic is a very rare path, with only around 1 in a 100 wizards or witches having that power. With the low numbers that we have in our society, you can expect there to be perhaps 4 or 5 in every generation. They are perhaps one of the most mysterious kinds of wizards that we know of. You wouldn't what Path they followed either unless they told you themselves. Of course, it would be more difficult to conceal if you were young, perhaps around your age.'

'Do you have any questions so far?'

'Um...I have a few, Professor. Firstly, where are these elementals? And what power do they have?'

'Elementals have four individual paths they can follow, air, water, earth and fire. Their magic will always be suited to a single element, and to try to go down a path that you are not suited for would be along the same lines as a Light Wizard attempting to become a Dark Wizard. It is simply not possible. And as for where they are, well, no one really knows. All that we do know is that Hogwarts has been a messenger for elementals ever since the Founders. Should a witch or wizard be an elemental, then a letter is sent out with all the others to them. However, they are given different instructions and follow them accordingly. They are then sent off to a different school where they learn to control and use their powers wisely. I can tell you now that there has never been an elemental who has ever followed Dumbledore or You-Know-Who's path. They have been a silent part of our society, in public they may as well be witches and wizards, in private, however, they are elementals.'

'Professor,' Harry started hesitantly. 'I kind of get the impression that you're not too impressed with Dumbledore...why is that, exactly?'

'Potter, I want to say one first. Dumbledore is a great wizard in the light path, and always will be. He has my deepest respect, and should command the same from you. However, there has always and I mean always, been problems associated with wizards so deeply wrapped in Light and Dark power as Dumbledore is. People like him cannot help but interfere, attempting to change the world in a way that reflects their ideology. I don't say that it is his fault, but I do say that he causes a lot of problems. No one has ever truly understood why this happens, some believe it to be involuntary, others deliberately. One person who went down this route like Dumbledore, for example, would be Merlin himself. I assume you know about Merlin, correct?'

'Only a little, Professor. Before Merlin, Wizarding society was heavily divided, wizards were scattered, often remaining individualistic. Merlin shaped our society from being primitive and divided into one great nation under the Ministry of Magic. He stopped the constant wars between wizards, making us one people during a time when Muggles were beginning to turn against wizards.'

'That is correct, or so history would have you believe. Our society, before Merlin, was indeed primitive, divided into families and the odd clan. Wars were frequent, but not necessarily bloody. However, a balance had been achieved between wizards and Muggles. Wizards were very much linked to nature, often aiding ancient kings, peoples in the form of great buildings, military deeds and even agriculture. Muggles knew of the existence of wizards, and did not mind us. In fact, some Muggles chose to worship us in the old forms of pagan gods. However, when Merlin was around your age, he began to change all this. He took his family and travelled across all of Europe, forcibly separating the bonds between wizards and Muggles through diplomacy or simple force. The wizards, who had lost the familiarity and safety of their past, were defenceless in the face of Muggles, who had previously relied on wizards, turned against them as famine, warfare and disease broke out, most of it caused indirectly by Merlin's actions. The surviving wizards were forced by necessity to join the very man who had caused all of this. Under his tuitiage, wizards began to centralise into primitive nations, such as in Britain, the place where Merlin eventually retired and ruled. Therefore, Potter, despite the tales of the Good and Great Merlin who forged the Wizarding world as we know it today, he really forced a balanced society into discord, forcing them into his vision. Was he wrong to do so, Potter? I don't know, and we probably never will. But the moral of the story here, Potter, is that powerful wizards of Light and Dark Paths will never be content with their society, and will always try to change it. As Dumbledore did so after the Second World War when nearly every government was turned on its head, so did You-Know-Who attempt to do so during the most recent Wizarding War.'

'I have one last question, Professor Moody. You said that a wizard or witch can only be Light or Dark, but not Grey. What's to stop a wizard or witch from practicing both at the same time? Why can't he, for example, cast one Light Spell followed by a Dark Spell? And what about ordinary spells, like Lumos, or Wingardium Leviosa?'

Moody smiled. 'An excellent question, Potter. Yes, Dark and Light wizards can and do use ordinary spells. However, you must always, always remember that behind spells lies intent. Take for example the Lumos spell. I could use that to see in the dark, or I could hold it to a person's eyes and permanently damage his eyesight. The true answer is that your magic simply will not allow it for you to maintain a balance between Light and Dark. Yes, you could attempt to do that, and it would most likely work for a short while. However, in the end, Light and Dark magic will fight for dominance. If both sides are equal in strength, then the magic will end up tearing itself apart in a bid for power, and then you've just made yourself a Squib. It is a dangerous game, Light and Dark. Tell me Potter, why do you think House Elves were domesticated?'

'For convenience?' Harry answered, baffled.

'It's because unlike wizards, House Elves are able to maintain the balance of Light and Dark. The very concept of being one or the other is impossible for them to understand! Dark Wizards have always used House Elves because as they delve into their brand of magic, they find their ability to use spells for common or "good" purposes to be reduced. Their magic isn't used to not being used for darkness. House Elves, once placed into service of a Dark Wizard, is used to the jobs they are unable to do!"

Harry sat back numbly, trying to process the information. 'Thank you Professor, it has been very interesting. But...what does this have to do with Parsletongue, exactly?'

'Parsletongue, Potter, is most commonly associated with the Dark Path. However, that is complete rubbish.'

Harry's face lit up. 'So are you saying that it is Light?'

'No, Potter. I am not.'

'But it surely can't be elemental, can it?'

'Again, no, Potter.'

'I...I don't understand.'

'Potter, tell me, what is so magical about talking to a snake? Yes, it's certainly unusual, and in some cases can incite panic, but in the end, it isn't magic at all. It is simply a gift that has been passed onto you somehow. In India, there are several snake-charmers who use music to communicate with snakes. In ancient Atlantis, Parsletongue was a very common trait amongst its inhabitants. Unfortunately, the majority of these peoples have either died out, or their trait has become so diluted that it only shows itself every so often amongst various generations. I would not be surprised, Potter, if you went through your family history and found no details of Parsletongue.'

'So...so you're telling me that there's no Light or Dark magic involved in speaking Parsletongue.'

'Treat it as a foreign language, Potter, that's all that it is in the end. Its only use is for talking to snakes, and as I personally am unable to talk to a snake, I cannot say whether the conversation is pleasant or not.'

Harry looked thoughtful for a few seconds. 'Professor, how can I use Parsletongue though in the First task? A snake won't exactly be much help to me, the size that it is, will it?'

'You've just answered your own question there, Potter. And the key word here is size.'

Harry's face brightened with comprehension. 'Ah! I understand now. Thank you Professor, thank you so much!' Harry's voice was bright with cheerfulness now that he had a direction to look for.

Moody nodded at Harry, a smile on his scarred face. As Harry turned to leave, Moody suddenly held up a hand. 'Potter, may I ask you a favour?'

'Anything sir,' Harry said brightly.

'I need your solemn oath that you will not talk of our conversation to anybody.'

'But...why Professor?'

'I would like to do some investigating, Potter, into just why the Three Paths are not taught at Hogwarts. Should you go telling everyone about it, people are going to ask questions about how you knew about it, and why they did not. Then Dumbledore will begin a cover-up, and the odds are that you won't see me again.'

Harry looked horrified. 'Professor! Surely you don't mean...'

'Remember, Potter. The actions of a person like Dumbledore will always be influenced by Light and Dark magic. It will do what it sees fit to do so. Now, do I have your oath?' At Harry's nod, Moody smiled. 'Just...be careful, Potter, eh?' Moody sounded slightly remorseful for a second before his voice became gruff again. 'Now then, be off with you!'

Harry, two days later, was sat at the breakfast table, both his and Hermione's eyes baggy with a lack of sleep. Ever since Harry had come back from Moody, he had enlisted Hermione's help and had spent practically the whole two days practicing. He had spent with Hermione practicing the engorgement charm, something that he was assured he ought to have learnt in third year. The rest of the time, away from Hermione's watchful eye, he had spent the rest of the time practicing the Serpensortia curse and talking to the snakes, interested in their opinions about his and their own lives. It turned out that the curse in fact stole many snakes from many different places. So far, the furthest place that Harry had summoned a snake from had been ironically from Brazil, the homeland of the snake that Harry had met almost directly before he left for Hogwarts. In his conversations with snakes, Harry had learnt one very important thing. No matter the species of the snake, each one was hugely proud of its species, and took offence at the slightest thing. More than once, Harry had been forced to banish a snake when he failed to address it in a manner which it felt it ought to be addressed. For the most part, Harry now catered to their wishes by referring to them with a tone of awe. Harry had also learnt another thing about the curse that he had never known before. In order to summon a snake that wasn't random, you had to picture the snake in your head along with its attributes. The scary thing was that in second year, Malfoy had summoned a deadly poisonous snake during the Duelling Club. Originally, Harry had passed it off as being luck and a random coincidence, but as Harry had learnt that you had to picture it directly, he knew now that Malfoy had been attempting to kill him. He was now much more wary of Malfoy, keeping his wand by him at all times, especially when he was in classes with Malfoy.

Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him at the table, whether they were offering him good luck, or were sending hissed insults his way. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he might just lose his head when they attempted to lead him out to the dragon and start trying to curse everyone in sight around him. Time had been acting in a peculiar fashion, rushing past in huge blocks, skipping History of Magic and Divination in what felt like a few seconds to Harry. It only felt like a few hours ago that he had talked to Professor Moody, and now he was sat at the breakfast table, with only a few hours left between now and the time he would have to face down a dragon.

What if he failed? What if he panicked and forgot to cast the curse correctly? Hell, what if he had suddenly forgotten how to speak Parsletongue? He felt trembling in his arms, making the spoon he was holding rattle against the bowl of cereal. He tossed it down, hoping that no one had noticed. Luckily for him, no one had except for Hermione, who patted his arm with a comforting smile on her face. 'I'm screwed,' he whispered to her, feeling like the blood had drained from his face. Most likely it had. Hermione only smiled, and opened her mouth to say something when she was interrupted by another arm on his shoulder. When he looked up, he saw Professor McGonagall.

'It's time, Mr. Potter,' she said, a slight trembling in her own voice. 'The champions have to come down into the grounds now...you have to get ready for your first task.'

'Ok,' Harry said, standing up from the bench.

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

'Yeah,' Harry said in a voice that was much unlike his own.

He left the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall. She didn't seem herself, either; in fact, she looked nearly as anxious as Hermione did. 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 on hand 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 worst of you...are you alright?'

Harry suddenly saw Professor Moody walk behind her, obviously on his way to the First Task. Upon seeing Harry, he gave him a wink and a thumbs up before continuing on his way. Inexplicably, Harry felt cheered up and more confident. After all, if a wizard like Moody was confident in him, then surely he had a great chance against anything he came up against. He turned back to Professor McGonagall, smiling at her. 'Yeah...I'm alright. In fact, I'm great!' he smiled broadly at her.

Professor McGonagall appeared to be unconvinced for a few seconds, looking at Harry in concern, before dismissing whatever it was she was thinking. 'Very well then, Mr. Potter. As long as you know that you can always leave the First Task whenever you wish.'

'Yeah, I know. But you know what? I want to win this thing. I've just been given the chance of a lifetime to do something that doesn't require my title of the "Boy-Who-Lived" to get attention. I think that this'll prove once and for all that I'm my own person, not just what the Wizarding world believe I am.'

McGonagall smiled at that, before dismissing it quickly. 'Very good then, Mr. Potter. As your head of house, I wish you all the best in the task.' They stopped outside of the tent, and just before Harry walked inside the tent, McGonagall stopped him. 'Good luck, Harry.' She smiled at him once more before disappearing towards the stadium. Harry stood in front of the tent, taking a deep breath before entering. The three champions, already in the tent, looked at him, only Cedric offering a smile, before they turned back to whatever they were doing before. Harry sat down in the corner of the tent, staring at the ground, the incantation for the two spells that he hoped to only use in his repeating over and over in his head.

At what seemed to be no time at all, Bagman had already entered the tent, giving out the three dragons. Harry winced at the sight of the Hungarian Horntail, the most vicious and dangerous dragons out of the four of them. Sometimes, life hated him so much...the rules were quickly explained, he couldn't kill the dragon, and he couldn't cause any damage to the dragon eggs. He would have to capture the golden egg, and that was that. Points would be taken off for breaking any of the two rules, as well as taking injuries from the dragons. Very quickly, Cedric left the tent first, followed soon after by Fleur and then by Krum. Harry remained in the tent, listening with a pounding heart and a nerve-racking stomach. He felt like throwing up, he felt so awful... All of a sudden, Harry's name was called by Bagman, and without giving prior warning, Harry's body carried itself to the tunnel where at the end was a dragon and a huge crowd of people.

He saw everything in front of him as though it was a very highly coloured 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 floor. 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.

'Serpensortia!' Harry cried out. Out of the tip of his wand came a scaly long snake, hissing as it pulled itself together from where ever it came from. Upon seeing Harry, it hissed, reeling back. Around him, the noise from the crowd had stopped utterly, but Harry didn't notice. Instead, he walked up to the snake, crouching before it.

'Greetings, glorious one,' Harry hissed. The snake, about to strike reeled back in astonishment, its beady eyes regarding Harry.

'You speak the blessed tongue?' it hissed. Harry felt a wave of thankfulness that it chose to talk instead of attack.

'Yes, I speak the blessed language of the snake. I offer you greetings, and my most sincere apologies for taking you from your home, but I brought you here to beg of you a favour.'

'Tell me this favour, favoured speaker.'

'I am to face a dragon, a mighty one. I could not defeat it alone, so I brought the mightiest thing that I knew of to defeat it.'

The snake hissed with pleasure, rattling its tail, pleased by the compliment. 'You are as wise as you appear to be, favoured speaker, but no amount of flattery may convince me that I am the mightiest. My fangs are only intended to freeze up bodies, not to kill them. You have brought the wrong creature, so perhaps you are not as wise as you appear to be. Hmm?'

'A clever assessment, glorious one, however, it is incorrect. I knew of what I brought, and I wished for you to come. The dragon in question is not to be killed, but to be paralysed as your fangs can only achieve.'

'You believe my fangs to be strong enough to take down a dragon? I find myself less and less impressed by your intelligence as the conversation continues, favoured speaker.' 'I agree that you cannot cause any real damage in the form that you are in. However, with your blessing, I would make you into a snake the size of the dragon itself, to give you an equal edge in glorious battle. Will you consent to it, mighty one?'

The snake regarded Harry for a few seconds, before it nodded. 'It is acceptable. I welcome the prospect of battle with the famed dragon. It used to be only the mighty Basilisk could ever hope to engage a dragon and come away alive. If I manage to win, then I will be famed amongst snakes forever. Your agreement is acceptable; make me into a creature strong enough to destroy a dragon.'

Harry nodded, pointing the wand at the snake. 'Engorgio!' Harry said clearly. The snake started to hiss in aggravation as its body started to lengthen, its scales stretching and growing at the same time. It became larger and larger, soon towering over him, its scales glinting in the sun and its tongue glistening in the air as it darted out to taste the air.

'Wonderful...' The snake hissed.

'I am glad you approve, glorious one. Now go fight for glory eternal!' The snake hissed proudly as it slithered towards the dragon, who roared with anger as it felt the snake approach.

'Come Great One, come face my wrath as I rip and tear you apart under my fangs. Come find out what it means to face down a true snake in open battle!'

The dragon roared as it pulled against the chains, desperate to attack the snake. It kept tugging and tugging at the chains, roaring its hatred towards the snake as it drew closer and closer, Harry warily walking behind the snake at a safe distance. Within a few yards of the dragon, the snake hissed as it reared back, ready to strike. The dragon roared once more, just before it fired flames over the snake's midriff. The snake hissed loudly. To the people watching on the stands, all they heard was hissing, to Harry, however, he heard a terrible screaming. Harry winced visibly as he clapped his hands over his head.

The snake, still reared up, launched down, ignoring the gaping hole in its chest, black skin peeling off of it. Its teeth quickly latched to the base of the dragon's right wing, tearing at its ligament. The dragon roared with anger, biting its own teeth into the snake's body. The tail of the dragon battered into the snake that was still clinging onto the dragon's wing. It hissed as it released the wing, before striking again, this time directly at the dragon's neck. Luckily for the dragon, it missed by the slightest inch, but the snake's teeth lodged instead in the chest of the dragon. The dragon continued to bite at the snake, its own tail still bashing away at the snake, flinging it side to side as the snake resolutely held onto the dragon.

The battle between the two continued this way for several more minutes, the snake taking more grievous wounds on its body, several organs revealed to the world. Harry simply stood there, watching in awe and fright as the two battle it out. However, the snake's paralysis poison was clearly working as the dragon became more and more sluggish in its movements. The snake continued to strike at the dragon, its poison overwhelming the defences of the dragon. Finally, the dragon collapsed to the ground. The snake reared above it, its fangs ready to bite one last time into the unprotected neck of the dragon.

'Stop!' Harry yelled in Parsletongue, causing the snake to halt and look at Harry.

'This is my right as the victor of this battle. I have the right to consume its flesh and finish the battle. You shall not stop me, you provided me with the tools for victory, do not expect me to toss them to one side before the battle is even complete.' The snake turned away, ignoring Harry's yells, and it launched down once onto the dragons neck. Harry turned away grimly as the snake hissed its victory. The audience was completely quiet, with sounds of vomiting coming occasionally from several areas. The snake then turned to Harry, ignoring the rapidly cooling dragon and its own personal wounds.

'You will send me back now,' the snake hissed. Without looking at it, Harry quickly shrank it before sending it back. Not looking at the dragon's body, he then walked over to the golden egg, grimacing slightly at the blood on it before he walked back towards the tent. Before he had got halfway, he began to hear yells.

'Murderer!'

'Dark wizard scum!'

'You're a traitor to your parents, Potter!

'Get out of Hogwarts!'

'Your parents would be ashamed of you!'

Harry ignored the words as more and more people started to yell insulting comments at him, before long a chant had erupted through the stands, everyone saying the same thing.

'Potter out! Potter out! Potter out! Potter out!'

Even as Harry entered the tent, before running away from the accusing stares of the other champions, up into the castle, in the Infirmary, collapsing onto a bed and helped warily by Madam Pomfrey, the chants rang loud and clears in his mind. Outside, the chanting was halted by Dumbledore ordering them to be quiet, but the chants continued in Harry's head.

Before long, people started to appear at Harry's bedside in the tent. Dumbledore was the first person to arrive. He sat down sadly onto the chair next to his bed, his blue eyes staring intently into Harry's own deep green eyes.

'Why did you do it Harry?' He whispered suddenly. Harry felt awful, as though he'd prefer to be shouted at rather than this. 'What on earth possessed you to choose this route?'

'I...what?' Harry asked in confusion.

'Your actions today will reflect badly upon you, my boy. Your use of Parsletongue in this task will be remembered for a long time, especially considering the international aspect of this year. You will be seen to be going down the same path that Voldemort did.' He leant in close. 'Explain yourself, please Harry.'

'But...but I didn't do anything!'

'Did you not speak Parsletongue?'

'Well...yeah, but so what?'

'You know that that is the language that Voldemort speaks. It is not wise, Harry, to draw his attention more. Nor is it wise to set yourself up as a Dark Wizard by speaking Parsletongue in front of hundreds of people!' He seemed to be ablaze with anger now. 'Harry, you now face a crossroads. I will not have another Tom Riddle on my hands, Harry; do not make me go down that path.'

Without another word, Dumbledore stood and left Harry. Not long afterwards, Hermione came inside with Ron, who glared at Harry. Harry saw Hermione exchange a look with Ron, before Ron dropped back to wait by the door, leaving Hermione to continue walking. As she approached, Harry smiled at her, that wasn't returned.

'Hey Hermione.' He said.

'Hello Harry.' She said rather stiffly.

'Are you alright?'

Hermione seemed to grow cold. 'Honestly, Harry? No, I'm not alright. I stayed with you, I always have. In your time of need, I promised myself to stick up for you, even to the point that I was lying to myself. Tell me, Harry, why didn't you tell me what you were planning when I was helping you carry out your sick, sadistic plan?'

Harry started at her in shock. 'Hermione...?' He reached out to hold her arm, only for her to jerk back.

'Why Harry? Why did you do it?' She started to yell at him, tears streaming down her face.

'Hermione, please!'

'Goodbye, Harry. I hope for your sake that you come back to us one day.' Turning on her heel, she joined Ron who opened the door for her, sending one last look of anger towards Harry, before he disappeared as well.

Harry stared at the wall in shock...they...they had abandoned him. He was on his own again...Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione had turned against him...he was alone...

Suddenly, the door opened one last time and Moody walked inside, smiling grimly at him.

'Potter, well done lad on your victory. A very good one, in my opinion!' He chuckled grimly, before noticing Harry's look. 'What's wrong lad?'

'They...' Harry found it hard to form words. 'They abandoned me...'

'Who did, Potter?'

'Hermione...Dumbledore...they said I was dark...that I wasn't with them any longer. Professor, you told me that I wasn't evil, but I am, I must be! They must've done it for a reason, I'm bad...I'm not worthy...what did I do wrong?' He looked at Moody, sadness etched all over his face. 'Please, Professor, what did I do?'

Moody came closer to Harry, holding him by the shoulder. 'Lad,' he started grimly. 'As you grow older, changes take place. Friends come and go, people turn out different than you previously believed. But remember this, Harry. You will always be yourself. I will look after you...I promise.'

It was at that moment that Harry knew that he would always be safe around Moody as Harry smiled sadly at Moody, burying his head in the man's shoulder. Moody smiled grimly over Harry's shoulder, a touch of ginger hair slowly appearing on his head. He sighed as he thought of what his master would use the boy for...it was a harsh life, and if he was honest, he felt some sympathy for the lad. But, the Dark Lord had to triumph. He would rule, and Barty Crouch Junior would rule by his side, loyal to the end for the Dark Lord.