Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

0567 Courage

"Oh my!" Professor McGonagall trembled with excitement. "Cross-species transfiguration, a highly advanced and extraordinarily perfect form of transfiguration magic. If this were performed in my classroom, I would not hesitate for a moment to award Cedric a well-deserved 20 points for his skill and ingenuity!"

"Aha, what a delightfully clever little trick!" Bagman commented happily, his jovial voice booming out over the arena as the tense atmosphere among the spectators eased slightly. "Our valiant first champion has finally taken decisive action. Oh, it's not at all difficult to discern his cunning intention, now is it?"

Just as Bagman had shrewdly observed, the massive Newfoundland dog that Cedric had transfigured from the boulder rushed out the very instant it gained mobility. However, rather than charging directly towards the Swedish Short-Snout dragon, the hound ran swiftly along a carefully considered arc, barking wildly as it headed towards the opposite side of the rocky slope.

This clever Swedish Short-Snout had already set its keen sights on the newly transformed dog the moment the stone had shapeshifted. As the hound began its planned run, the dragon rose up from its crouching posture to stand at its full height.

The Newfoundland dog was approximately the size of a young calf, but in comparison to the towering, nearly three-story high Swedish Short-Snout, it appeared as nothing more than a tiny, insignificant dot against the dragon's scaly body.

The dragon refrained from immediately pouncing to tear the hound to shreds or annihilating it with a scorching blast of its dragon breath, and instead took a moment to shrewdly judge what exactly this audacious dog was trying to do.

Woo! Woo!

To be perfectly honest, the strange appearance of a dog's high-pitched, insistent whimpering echoing through the stadium of the Triwizard Tournament was quite an amusing and interesting scene to witness.

"Did you see that, everyone!" Bagman called happily, his amplified voice tinged with barely contained glee. "Cedric is having his hound provoke the ferocious dragon. He wants to lure the beast away, a very wise and calculated move on his part!"

Just as Bagman had accurately described, the hound came to an abrupt pause directly in front of Cedric. Boldly ignoring the huge size difference between its own body and the dragon, the dog decisively turned its head and barked wildly.

The Short-Snout unfurled its massive, sail-sized wings with an audible snap. Already uneasy and highly irritable, the dragon was even further annoyed by the seemingly insignificant, yapping thing in front of him.

A surging torrent of blue flame gushed out of its flaring nostrils on pure instinct, and the air in its vicinity was instantaneously scorched to an unbearable degree. Feeling the intense heat wave striking their faces, the audience exclaimed in unison, shock and awe mingling in their collective gasps!

But much to everyone's amazement, after the dazzling display of blue flames - flames heavily imbued with the dragon's deadly breath - dissipated into dissipating tendrils of smoke, the Newfoundland dog remained unscathed.

The hound had deliberately put itself in a relatively safe location, cunningly out of reach of even the most intense blast of the dragon's fiery breath. And of course, since the dog was not a true animal of flesh-and-blood, but rather one transfigured from stone, it did not have to worry whatsoever about the devastating effects of the oppressive high temperature.

The enraged Short-Snout angrily pawed at the rocky soil with its claws, creating deep furrows. Its flapping wings stirred up a turbulent gust of wind that whipped across the arena. Its massive head swayed from side to side menacingly, as a low, thunder-like roar emerged from deep in its throat - a sound so spine-chilling that it caused everyone's scalps to tingle with instinctual fear!

But the core problem remained - this Swedish Short-Snout, coming from its native habitat in the remote mountains of northernmost Sweden, still stubbornly refused to abandon its eggs, despite the steadily increasing provocation.

Although it was clearly attracted by Cedric's barking hound, it simply would not leave the nest. This planned move of Cedric was obviously not proving as effective as he had hoped. So, the Newfoundland dog needed to resort to even more drastic measures.

In a sudden, startling motion, the hound abruptly pounced forward several feet, then spun around to face the Short-Snout once again. Craning its neck, it cheekily turned its head to the side and boldly wiggled its buttocks at the irritated dragon in a universally recognized gesture of mockery.

This daring, sassy trick worked like a charm, provoking an immediate response from the already enraged dragon. Dragons are universally renowned as highly intelligent magical creatures, immensely powerful and fiercely proud. How could such a majestic beast ever tolerate such a blatant, taunting insult from what it perceived as a far inferior being?

The amused laughter of the audience, entertained by the hound's audacious antics, was swiftly drowned out by the earth-shattering roar that erupted from the dragon's gaping jaws.

Azure-hued flames surged outwards like in a flood again. The scorching flames were so unbelievably intense that even Cedric, at a relatively safe distance away on the opposite side of the arena, felt as though he had suddenly been thrust into the heart of a scorching furnace!

But fortunately, Cedric's reflexes helped him well in this precarious moment. As soon as he perceived that the situation was rapidly deteriorating, he immediately let the hound to swiftly run to safety. When the flames finally dissipated, the dog had miraculously avoided collapsing into a pile of charred stone. Instead, it stood its ground near the edge of the now-melted pit, its white teeth bared in a snarl focused at the Swedish Short-Snout!

ROAR!

An overwhelmingly powerful sonic shockwave rippled through the arena, stirring up roiling clouds of smoke and choking dust. Suddenly, amidst the swirling haze, there was an ominous clang of strained metal as the iron chains holding the dragon in check stretched tense to their utmost limit.

A massive frightening shadow burst through the obscuring veil of smoke and dust, accompanied by a hair-raising, ear-splitting shriek of fury. In a terrifying display of raw power and aggression, the Swedish Short-Snout pounced with astonishing speed, lunging straight at the comparatively tiny Newfoundland dog.

Now! This was the moment!

Cedric's agile mind went blank for a fraction of a second, then kicked into overdrive. He surrendered his body completely to pure, honed instinct.

The instant the Short-Snout abandoned its guarded dragon nest, putting approximately forty feet of distance between itself and its eggs, Cedric seized his chance. Without a second's hesitation, he leaped out from his hiding place behind the massive boulder.

"Merlin's beard, everyone, look at Mr. Diggory go!" Bagman shouted, his voice cracking with excitement. "Can you believe the incredible speed he's demonstrating? That young man is moving so fast, it's simply astonishing - no, unbelievable!"

Mere moments ago, Cedric had been about sixty feet away from the golden egg nested among the other dragon eggs. But in the four or five seconds it took for Ludo Bagman to exclaim in shock, he had crossed that distance so swiftly, he appeared to be flying across the rocky terrain rather than running.

By the time Ludo's amplified voice fell silent, Cedric had already appeared at the very edge of the dragon's nest.

ROAR!

Another earth-shaking roar reverberated through the arena. The Swedish Short-Snout, momentarily distracted as it single-mindedly pounced on the infuriating hound, seemed to suddenly notice that something was amiss. Its head turned around abruptly, and its eyes widened as it saw a tiny, insignificant creature darting close to its cherished eggs.

Before the dragon could completely turn its bulky body around to face this new threat, it instinctively brewed up a scorching stream of its signature blue dragon breath, ready to unleash hell upon the foolishly brave creature.

Keen-eyed observers could clearly see that the Short-Snout's gaping mouth and flared nostrils were glowing an even more brilliant, pulsating blue - far brighter and more intense than ever before.

However, Cedric, who had already swooped in with such astonishing speed, didn't appear to have any possible escape route. He had been far too focused on reaching his goal to spare a thought for planning his retreat. At such a little distance from the enraged dragon and with his forward momentum propelling him ever closer to danger, he had virtually no chance of successfully dodging the impending blast!

From their carefully concealed vantage points in the specially constructed tunnels surrounding the arena, the dragon handlers hired for the task raised their wands one after another, prepared to intervene at any moment. Even Dumbledore rose from his seat at that critical moment.

Just when the breathless spectators were convinced that Cedric was going to tragically fail in his daring attempt - missing out on seizing the golden egg that was now so close - the Cedric did something completely unexpected. In a desperate, last-ditch maneuver, he abruptly pounced forward and shouted an incantation in a strong, steady voice: "Glisseo!"

He aimed his wand directly at the rocky boulder upon which the dragon was.

BOOM!

The sound of the mighty dragon's massive body crashing to the ground was so thunderous, it was as though a massive bolt of lightning had unexpectedly struck the earth out of a clear blue sky.

Despite the Short-Snout's abrupt tumble, it still managed to release the scorching jet of fire that it had been brewing up. However, thanks to its sudden loss of balance and stability, the scorching flames did not engulf Cedric as intended. Instead, the deadly stream of dragon fire rushed past Cedric, missing him by two or three feet before striking the rock wall with a bone-rattling crash.

The entire arena trembled violently in the aftermath of that explosive impact, but not solely because of the dragon's earthshaking roar or the force of its misdirected blast. No, the primary reason for the stadium's quaking was the deafening cheers that erupted from the spectators as they witnessed Cedric's success.

"Did you see that? Did you all just witness that incredible feat?" Bagman shrieked elatedly, bouncing up and down on his commentator's podium as if the wooden planks were a trampoline. "Our first champion has done the unthinkable - he's successfully claimed the golden egg for his own!"

The dragon handlers rushed forward. And with their coordinated spellcasting, at least a dozen brilliant red beams of light shot out from their outstretched wands, enveloping the massive Swedish Short-Snout in a net-like web of pulsating magical energy.

But in that particular moment, no one in the crowd paid the slightest bit of attention to the impressive feat of the handlers subduing the rampaging dragon. Instead, every single spectator was utterly focused on loudly cheering for Cedric Diggory, the daring young champion who had just achieved the unthinkable.

The young wizards of Hufflepuff House were simply crazy in joy. Each and every one of them leaped on the nearest bench or table, and laughed with pure elation as they jumped up and down, pumping their fists in the air and screaming Cedric's name over and over again until they went hoarse.

Professor Sprout was so moved that she kept wiping her tears, and Cho Chang in the tunnel was also looking at Cedric with tears of relief and admiration gleaming in her dark eyes.

"That's my son!" In the viewing seat of Diagon Alley, Amos stood up and shouted loudly. "That's my son out there!"

"Oh, Amos, congratulations!" Arthur said sincerely, reaching out to firmly clasp his shoulder. "That was a truly wonderful performance by your Cedric!"

Yet even as he spoke those words of genuine praise, there was a hint of regret in Arthur's eyes as his thoughts momentarily drifted to his own children. He found himself silently pondering that if only his elder sons - Bill, Charlie, or even Percy - had been fortunate enough to participate in the Triwizard Tournament during their own times at Hogwarts, they too might have become champions. If only...

Down on the rocky floor of the area, an exhausted Cedric lay flat on his back in the dust, his chest heaving as he gulped in great lungful of air. His one arm was curled around the golden egg that he had successfully seized from the dragon's nest, clutching tight to his chest.

Cedric was clearly aware that there had to be countless spectators cheering their hearts out for him at this moment, ….and yet, he could not seem to muster up even the tiniest flicker of reciprocal happiness in his heart. The only emotion he could perceive was a deep, knee-weakening sense of all-consuming relief after his incredibly narrow escape from the dragon's deadly flames.

Following the heart-stopping conclusion of Cedric's task, the hidden passageway leading into the arena abruptly opened, causing the disheveled Cedric to raise his head slightly off the ground to peer in that direction.

In the wavering heat haze still emanating from the scorched and scarred stones, he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of Madam Pomfrey rushing towards him.

Behind her, a horde of healers from St Mungo's Hospital poured out of the passageway, and their faces were etched with undisguised horror - the kind of stark, bone-deep fear that only manifested when one had just witnessed something truly dreadful beyond the reach of the average imagination.

"I'm fine!" Cedric called out, his voice coming out as little more than a dry, raspy croak. He drew in another deep, shuddering breath and made an effort to lever himself up into a sitting position, wanting to ease Madam Pomfrey's concerns and convey to her that he had no need for such a massive assembly of medical personnel.

However, the instant he shifted his body and attempted to rise - the entire left half of his body did not respond to his instinctual call at all, and was in fact completely numb. Alarmed by this disturbing discovery, Cedric looked down at himself in shock!

"Don't move a muscle, Mr. Diggory!" Madam Pomfrey cried out sharply as she stopped beside him. She had clearly seen the expression of distress twisting Cedric's soot-streaked face, and her tone brooked no argument.

Dropping to her knees in the dust, she quickly but carefully examined Cedric's bloody left arm, which lay exposed to the smoky air. She couldn't quite suppress the multiple gasps that escaped her as she took in the gruesome sight.

"You should thank Bryan for providing you with specially enchanted competition robes!" Madam Pomfrey said with a serious face, "Otherwise, you might not have been able to keep this arm!"

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