This is a scene from my future Harry Potter series entitled Visionary. My Rough Trade project from November 2014 is the first book in this universe. This is how Seer!Harry chooses to handle the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.
Please read the following before you dive into the scene:
If you’ve read nothing in my Visionary arc, this is going to make little sense. So, because I’m actually a nice author, I’ve hidden what there is of The Last Seer rough draft here on my site. You can only find it through this link. The page is a work in progress, but the part you care about is the last tab cleverly titled The Last Seer Rough Draft 😉 Happy Reading!
Title: Visionary Excerpt – The First Task
Author: Jilly James
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All recognizable characters are the property of their respective creators.
Warnings: Not much
Summary: How Harry handles the first task of the Triwizard tournament after he becomes the Last Seer.
Author’s Note: Bear in mind that Harry is really 19 years old, so he’s not going to think or act like a 14 year old. Seriously, a lot of this won’t make sense if you haven’t read what there is of The Last Seer.
Rough Draft, unedited.
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When it was Harry’s turn, he reached into the bag to pull the last dragon. As he knew he would, he got the Hungarian Horntail and was going fourth. Stepping away from the other champions, he took a seat and waited calmly for his moment to enter the enclosure. He waved Bagman away when the man tried to engage him.
The others kept shooting him odd looks, not sure what to make of his apparent lack of concern, but he had little interest in engaging with anyone involved in this farce of a tournament.
He planned to use dragon-speak to communicate with the Horntail and simply put an end to the situation. Dragon-speak was close enough to parseltongue that no one would be able to say otherwise.
Once again he wondered if he’d taken the right path in handling fourth year. He could have gotten out of the tournament, but felt the extra autonomy he’d have a champion preparing for the tasks would justify having to actually compete. He needed that time where he wasn’t closely scrutinized. Plus his alienation from everyone was working for him.
He tilted his head to the side, stretching his neck as if that would ease the annoying sensation of wearing the glamour of his fourteen-year-old self. Closing his eyes, he mediated until it was his moment to face the dragon.
When it was his turn to step out into the enclosure, he kept all his attention on the mother Hungarian Horntail. He lets his Seer aura out enough so that she’d know what he was and asked Mother Magic to touch the dragon.
At the same time, he called out in dragon-speak, “Greetings, my lady, I mean no harm to you or your clutch.”
She’s focused on him and looked aggressive until that touch and Harry’s words. She stilled and blinked, then moved as close to him as she could and flopped on her belly, a puff of smoke coming out her nose.
Harry ignored the startled and frightened murmurs of the crowd and stepped close to her, reaching out to stroke her snout. “I apologize that they’ve brought you here for such a ridiculous purpose.”
“You are the last,” she eventually responded, and Harry could hear a bit of sadness. The surprised murmurs of the crowd became louder.
“Yes. Magic is in jeopardy and I must bring together those who can help save her.” Harry knew she wouldn’t understand every word, but she’d get most of it. Dragon thought processes were simpler than a wizard’s and so was their speech.
“Why are we here?”
“It’s wizarding foolishness. It’s a competition… a sport. They’ve placed a false egg in your clutch and I’m meant to retrieve it.”
A rumble emanated from her throat, and Harry registered some screeches of fear from the crowd, before the spectators slipped into stunned silence. “Remove the false egg!” she ordered in a throaty, rumbly hiss
Harry held out his wand, even though it was just a prop, and asked Magic to summon the golden egg to him. It came sailing through the air and smacked into his arms. “Even though I have removed the false egg, I must beg to spend a few more moments with you. I intend to lose this contest, so must wait until the time has almost run down.”
She cocked her head to the side but didn’t reply for several seconds. “Will we be used further for your games?”
“No, my lady, this is the end. I assure you.”
She nudged him a little with her big head, nearly knocking him over. “What need have you, Seer?”
“None, lady, though if things become dire, we may need the aid of the dragons.”
“We will come,” she responded in her odd hiss. “When you call, we will come.”
“You have my gratitude. I’ll ensure your eggs are returned safely to your pen. There’s a particular friend of the dragons who will accompany you and your eggs back to your home. He will see them safe.”
“Your word, little Seer?” she grumbled, even as she nudged him again, clearly wanting to be touched.
Harry obligingly scratched and rubbed at her scales. “Yes. I’ll bring him to you you after this spectacle ends.” Sadly, Harry knew he’d be spending quite a bit of time in the dragon pens after the task to help with a grieving and angry Chinese Fireball whose clutch had been destroyed.
He needed to spend a few more minutes to ensure he wouldn’t be anywhere close to first place. The Horntail was happy enough to have his attention, nudging at Harry for more scratches even as she continued to grumble about wizards in general.
Eventually he broke away from her, masked his Seer’s aura and levitated her eggs in front of them, even as he banished her chains. The crowd panicked and there was screaming. Harry just shook his head and led the Horntail from the enclosure, nodding to the dragon handlers staring at him wide-eyed. He knew he’d be chastised for that later, but he really couldn’t be arsed to care.
He noted the judges kept a careful distance, seeming to be poised to flee, and Charlie was the only one willing to come close. “Harry,” He said cautiously, “what…” he trailed off, apparently at a loss for words.
“She’s very concerned about her clutch. I promised to return the eggs to her pen myself. I also promised that you’d personally vow to see her and her eggs returned to her home.”
Charlie blinked at him several times. “And she’s agreeable?”
“Yes. I’ll introduce you at the pen. Come on.”
“Harry,” Bagman called nervously from a safe distance. “We need you to return to the Champion’s tent and we can give your scores.”
Harry and the Horntail both fixed their stare on Bagman, causing him to pale. “I assured her that I would personally return her eggs. You can see that I’m not hurt and I don’t need to be there for you to give announce my scores. I’ll be with the dragons.”
Harry knew Dumbledore was about to call out to him as well, so he quickly headed to the dragon pens, the lumbering form of the Horntail dissuading anyone from getting close.
Once they were back in the pen, and the eggs lowered into the nest, the Horntail moved into a position where she could defend her clutch, then settled down.
Beckoning for Charlie to approach, who looked awed but also wary, Harry patted the Horntail on the snout, scratching and the scales again. “This is my friend. He’s going to care for you.” There was no way Charlie’s name would translate to dragon, so he didn’t even bother.
The Horntail took a deep breath, smoke curling from her nostrils as she exhaled. “I know his scent. He may tend to me and my clutch. I will not harm him. Though I will not cooperate with wizards using us for sport.”
Nodding, Harry turned to the dragon handler. “Charlie, dragons don’t really have names as we think of them. She’s agreed to let you tend to her and move her eggs back to her home nest. She said you’d be safe from her, but, you know, still be careful. Oh, and she said no more competitions.”
Wide-eyed with wonder, Charlie just nodded, reaching out and stroking the dragon’s scales. “I… Harry, I can’t tell you how amazing this is.” The redhead seemed to get choked up for a minute, then cleared his throat and continued. “None of us wanted to bring them here, I promise you. We weren’t given a choice.”
Harry relayed the words to the dragon, then gave her a final pat. “I’m going to see to the other dragons. I know one grieves and is angry.” Before he stepped away he added, “Mind your youngest… he’s going to be mischief with wings.”
Eyes narrowed the Hungarian tossed her head and glared at her clutch. Apparently dragons had little tolerance for mischief.
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