Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

0570 The Truth

"Impossible!" Harry's thoughts froze for a few seconds before he finally regained his senses.

Shock, disbelief and a growing sense of dread coursed through him as the seriousness of the situation sunk in. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and resolutely said, "Professors Watson and Charlie would never suspect you of poisoning the dragon Hermione's going to face, Hagrid! You're the last person who would ever harm a creature, especially a dragon!"

Hagrid stammered in a panic, his massive hands trembling slightly. "I don't rightly know--" he began, his gruff voice laced with uncertainty and dread. "I was just about to go and check on the situation meself--"

"Where are they keeping the dragons, Hagrid? Show us the way and let's go together!" Sirius said firmly, his tone making it clear he fully understood the dire seriousness of the predicament.

Now, at this very moment, the eyes of the entire European wizarding world were focused intently on Hogwarts, waiting with bated breath for the spectacle to unfold. If anything went wrong in front of such a massive audience, in full view of so many influential witches and wizards, there was no telling what people might say. The consequences could be catastrophic.

Rumors would fly from ear to ear like wildfire, surely growing more outlandish with each retelling. Reputations could be shattered; the school's prestige would be tarnished. The Ministry might even get involved...the consequences were truly catastrophic. They had to get to the bottom of this, and fast.

So, under Hagrid's hurried lead, the three of them set off swiftly. They circled nearly half the perimeter of the massive circular arena. The distant roar of the excited crowd faded into the background as they jogged, reaching closer to the sloping tunnel where the dragons were being temporarily housed before their grand entrance.

As they reached the mouth of the tunnel, they found their path blocked by the dragon handlers who were in the process of transporting the still deeply sleeping Welsh Green into the holding area, using a sturdy wooden carriage. Harry, Hagrid and Sirius had no choice but to wait restlessly on the side, shuffling their feet impatiently.

After a minute or two, the Welsh Green was held inside and the dragon handlers hurriedly pushed out a terrifying black dragon that had been waiting deeper in the tunnel's shadows.

"Whoa!" Sirius let out an involuntary exclamation of awe and not a little fear upon laying eyes on the magnificent Hungarian Horntail.

Harry too could not fully suppress the look of instinctive horror that flashed across his face.

This particular dragon, with scales of the deepest obsidian black, looked utterly ferocious. Its muscular body was significantly larger than either the Swedish Short-Snout or Welsh Green that had come first before it.

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Even when curled up within the cage, unable to fully extend to its full length, it had to measure at least thirty feet from its blunt snout to spiked tail tip. Moreover, its neck and lethal tail were covered in sharp bronze-colored spikes that looked like they could impale a troll with ease!

This terrifying Horntail was clearly far feistier and more aggressive than the two previous dragons upon being brought out to the arena field. It let out piercing ear-splitting roars one after another, throwing its immense weight against the bars of its cage, making the metal clang and shudder.

The resolve of the dragon handlers escorting it clearly wavered - none dared to approach within lunging distance of the thrashing creature. They resorted to magically propelling the wheeled carriage forward from a safe distance.

An absurd question suddenly burst from Harry's lips. "Why isn't it breathing fire?"

"They've had to use an extremely powerful Fire-Suppression Charm to restrict its fire breathing abilities and movement," Although preoccupied with the looming trouble at hand, Hagrid's eyes still shone with a glimmer of longing as they remained fixed on the enraged Horntail. "Otherwise, absolutely no one would dare approach the beastie while it's awake and riled up like this!"

Harry shuddered to imagine how Krum planned to contend with such a monstrous opponent. He said a silent prayer of thanks to the fates that he himself had dodged that particular cursed bludger.

"Let's go--" Sirius said with a sigh of slight regret, tearing his gaze away from the dragon. "We need to hurry and get to the bottom of this troubling mystery. If we're swift about it, perhaps we can still catch the tail end of today's performances--"

The three of them broke into a jog again, heading down into the underground dragon holding pit. It was a vast subterranean space, with a loop of torches thrust into iron brackets at regular intervals along the rock walls. The flickering orange flames illuminated the shadowy cave and imbued it with a certain inconsistent coziness despite its immense scale.

The Welsh Green that Fleur had faced slept, while Cedric's Swedish Short-Snout had awakened but remained tightly bound in place. Harry noticed a strange translucent gray chain of interconnected runic symbols wrapped around the Short-Snout's body.

Apart from two adult wizards talking near the center of the cave, there was also a ghost hovering in the air- a majestic silver phoenix. Harry blinked in momentary confusion before realizing who that phoenix was - it was Professor Dumbledore. Harry had seen him use this form to send message to Professor Watson on the night of the Quidditch World Cup.

"Ah, you've arrived?" Bryan, with his hands behind his back, turned his head and smiled slightly at the three arrivals upon hearing the commotion.

'What's going on?'

Harry frowned, trying to get a read on the situation through the haze of confusion clouding his mind.

Another accident had occurred during the Triwizard Tournament, and it happened while the competition was still ongoing. But Professor Watson didn't seem to be in too foul of a mood. The sapphire eyes of that silver phoenix were also fixed on them, calm as always.

In contrast, Charlie's reaction more closely aligned with what Harry and the others' had been expecting. He was half-kneeling in front of the sickly-looking Chinese Fireball, which was spread out in a puddle of its own drool and seemed as limp as a wet rag.

Charlie looked utterly devastated as he carefully extracted a tar-like black paste from between the gaps in the dragon's massive fangs. A large quantity of that unknown substance had already accumulated on the stone floor.

"Explain yourself, Hagrid!" Charlie snapped, finally noticing Hagrid's presence. In his current state of agitation, he didn't seem to care why Harry and Sirius had come along. 

"Professor Dumbledore, Professor Watson, I can explain--" Hagrid called out, desperation tinging his booming voice. He hurried forward in a fluster, and his bloodshot eyes widened in horror at the sight of the black thing smeared across the floor and all remaining color was drained from his tired face.

"Oh, this...this is just a little something I purchased down Knockturn Alley way--" Hagrid stammered, blinking pleadingly up at the expressionless silver phoenix.

"You know how it is, professor...I use it to calm down some o' the feistier critters out in the Forest sometimes when they get a bit riled. Those big fellas are right fond o' fighting, y'see. Have ter slip 'em a little something so they'll settle down long enough ter tend their wounds proper..."

Harry and Sirius exchanged a shocked look. They both knew Hagrid very well. For all his carelessness and eccentricity, the one area in which Hagrid was never ever negligent was the care and well-being of the magical beasts.

And dragons? Dragons were the magical creatures Hagrid loved above all others - his greatest passion. How could he have done something so reckless as to feed a dangerous unknown substance to the dragons?

"Are you muddled in the head, Hagrid?" Charlie roared, standing and wiping his blackened fingers on his work robes in jerky motions.

"How could you possibly think it was a clever idea to mix this foul stuff into this poor Fireball's feed? And in such a huge quantity too - at least twenty pounds worth by my estimate! Don't tell me this was some harebrained scheme to get your hands on a dragon egg while the mother was feeling woozy and unlikely to flame you to a crisp!"

Much as he wanted to, Harry couldn't really argue against that theory on Hagrid's behalf. It did seem frighteningly plausible that Hagrid's longing for a dragon of his own to raise might have tempted him into rashness...

"I didn't! I swear it, Professor Dumbledore!" Hagrid cried, looking wronged by the accusation. "The food I prepared for the four dragons last night was all their favorite stuff - foods I know they've been enjoying morning, noon and night for o'er ten days now with nary a problem!"

 "But did you personally deliver each dragon's meal to them, Hagrid?" Dumbledore calmly inquired.

"Well... no, not as such..." Hagrid admitted, his shoulders slumping. "There was a right commotion that sprang up suddenly in the Forest, y'see. Those centaurs went inexplicably berserk, driving out all manner of smaller magical creatures before 'em!

Even Aragog's acromantula colony took heavy losses. One of the little spiderlings scurried up to the cabin to give me the news, so I had to go and take a look at..."

"Then who exactly did you entrust the task of feeding the dragons in your stead?" Sirius interjected, shrewdly zeroing in on the crux of the matter.

"It was Freodom--" Hagrid choked out, looking suddenly pale and stricken, as if an invisible hand were squeezing his throat.

"The little one had been helping me deliver their meals these past nights, so I figured... well, I figured it oughta know the path well enough to manage on its one by now..." He drew a labored breath. "My, but I thought the wee thing was really coming along - gotten right brave! Time was, it wouldn't dare get within sniffing distance of a dragon..."

"Freodom?" Sirius pressed impatiently. "Who is that?"

"A house-elf," Dumbledore replied calmly, his keen gaze flicking to Bryan. "One that young Miss Hermione Granger accidentally rescued and has had staying with Hagrid ever since, I believe..."

Silence fell over the underground space as the pieces began to slot into place. Harry gaped at Hagrid, cold realization trickling down his spine. The true shape of the situation was perhaps quite different from what he had initially assumed...

"So, this house-elf wanted to..."

An oddly amused expression appeared on Sirius's face as he turned to Bryan. "But I don't understand how it could possibly have ensured that Hermione in particular would face off against this red dragon?"

"Oh--"

Bryan let out a low chuckle, flashing a hint of white teeth. "It indeed tampered a bit during the drawing. I didn't pay it any mind. However, I didn't expect Freodom to be so thorough... I suppose it probably wanted the Chinese Fireball to be listless, lacking in energy when taking the field, to make the challenge Hermione faced a bit easier. Unfortunately, it didn't have much of a concept regarding the dosage of potions--"

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