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Part Four:  Lost in a Maze.

Harry reached out to take Susan's hand as they made their way around the Black Lake.  As had become their habit whenever the weather permitted it, the pair had taken to spending the weekends together out of the castle, away from prying eyes.

Despite the damned tournament, in Harry's opinion, this was turning out to be the very best year of his life.  Susan seemed to actually enjoy being around him, which was a big plus. Ron, after his huge blowup with Hermione in the common room the night of the ball, had actually seemed to pull his head out of his arse and was acting like a friend again.  Hermione appeared to be deliriously happy dating Cedric and Harry's fellow champions all seemed to accept him as a peer.

Yeah, he thought as Susan cuddled close to him, life had gotten pretty good.

Which was why he was not particularly surprised by what happened next.  Alarmed, yes, but not surprised.

As the pair rounded a corner where the foliage would hide them from anyone on the castle grounds, Susan stopped and leaned back against what she had taken to calling her 'favorite tree'.  Then with both hands, she took hold of Harry's jumper and pulled him against her body and into an open-mouthed kiss.

As it usually did when Susan took the initiative like this, Harry's brain went off line with extreme happiness.  When the pair broke their kiss, some very small part of Harry noticed that the sky had suddenly gone dark, despite there not having been a cloud in the sky only moments before.

The sudden darkness was only beginning to penetrate through the dense layer of happiness that surrounded Harry’s brain when something small yet massive suddenly hit him, shoving him to the ground.

~ Uncle Harry! ~ A cheerful childlike voice called out.  ~ We found you! ~

Harry found himself looking into a pair of cold yellow reptilian eyes.  He was utterly shocked to find a miniature dragon the size of an Alsatian dog sitting on his chest wiggling in excitement.

~ Get off Uncle Harry, ~ another child’s voice called out as another miniature dragon butted its head against the side of the one on top of him, knocking it from his body.  ~ You’ll break him! ~

~ Children, ~ a familiar voice scolded.  ~ be careful.  Humans are fragile. ~

~ Kiska? ~ Harry asked his eyes wide to see the jet-black she-dragon from the first task.

~ Hello again Harry Potter, ~ the dragon said with what could only be called a grin on her face.  ~ You should tell your friend to calm down before she gets hurt. ~

Friend?  Suddenly Harry realized whom Kiska was referring to, his eyes flicked to Susan who was still standing with back against the tree, her wand in a badly shaking hand.

“Susan, no!” Harry shouted.  “Don’t, she’ll hurt you.  This is Kiska!  The dragon from the first task.”

“Why is it here?” Susan yelped, her eyes wide with fear.  “And why are the little ones swarming you?”

That was a good question, Harry reflected. “I don’t know, I’ll try to find out.”

“Try to find out?” she screeched in near hysterics, “You’ll try to find out?”

~ Is she your mate? ~ One of the smaller dragons asked in its child voice.

~ Ewwww! ~ Three of the others chorused.

~ I think it is romantic, ~ the fifth disagreed.  ~ Even if she does get excited real easy. ~

~ Ewwww! ~ The mini dragons chorused again.

~ Kiska, ~ Harry called out, ~ what’s going on?  Why are you here? ~

~ The children wanted to see their Uncle Harry, ~ the she-Dragon explained calmly.

~ Uncle Harry? ~

~ Yes, they imprinted on you when you were the first living thing they saw upon hatching, ~ Kiska explained.  ~ I must admit to be a little jealous, since it is usually their mother newly hatched dragons imprint on.  Because of that imprinting, they will always be able to find you, and they will always know how you are.  You belong to each other. ~

~ We love you, Uncle Harry, ~ the five dog sized dragons called out.

Harry looked over to Susan.  “Kiska says that her hatchlings imprinted on me because I was the first thing they saw after hatching.  They think I’m their uncle.”

“Kiska says?”  Susan sputtered.  “Kiska says?  Are you telling me that you can speak to dragons?”

“Well, yeah,” Harry admitted as he climbed to his feet.  “It seems that dragons speak Parseltongue.”

~ We most certainly DO NOT, ~ Kiska roared.  ~ Serpents speak a bastardized version of Dragon. ~

Harry winced at the volume of the rebuke, while noticing that Susan was even more terrified than she had been.  “And Kiska understands English.  It seems that dragons don’t speak Snake, snakes speak Dragon.”

~ Quite so, ~ the Dragon huffed.

“You speak to dragons…” Susan whispered, before seeming to calm and a weak smile crossed her lips.  “You didn’t really fight her did you?”

“um,” Harry cringed a bit.  This could not possibly be good.  Hufflepuffs were famous for their love of fair play… Susan had gotten over his paying off the Merfolk easily enough, but this...  “Not as such, no.”

“You made a deal with her, just like you did with the Merfolk, didn’t you?” Susan asked accusingly.

“Yes,” Harry admitted.  This was it.  He had known all along that this relationship with Susan was too good to last, and that sooner or later she was going to wise up and tell him to get lost.  It looked like that time had arrived.

“So, we aren’t in any real danger?”

“I don’t think so, not really, no.”

~ I must be going, little wizard, ~ Kiska said, interrupting the potential breakup.  ~ I shall return on the morrow, there will be the standard exchange of treasure upon my return, ~ she pronounced.  ~ Ensure that my Hatchlings eat well, and only those foods that are good for them, and see to it that they are asleep by the time the moon is high tonight. ~

Harry blinked.  Wait a minute, he recognized this spiel.  The words are different, but the intent was the same… he was being hired as a baby sitter?”

~ Kiska, wait, I don’t know… ~

~ I’m sure that my Hatchlings will be safe with their Uncle Harry, ~ Kiska spread her wings.  ~ Children, behave for Harry. ~

~ Yes Mum! ~ Five high pitched voices chimed.

~ Mum! Mum! ~ The little red dragon piped as Kiska began to take off.

Furling her wings, she paused.   ~Yes little one? ~

~ Our names Mum, you forgot to ask Uncle Harry about our names, ~ this speaker was the smallest of the five, colored a fire engine red where the others were all jet black in their coloring.

~ Oh, yes.  You will need to name them, ~ the dragon said in an offhanded manner before she took to the sky, rocketed upward at an incredible speed and… vanishing in a slit second while Harry blinked.  She had been there and then she wasn’t.

“What was that?” Susan asked.

“It seems I’m babysitting tonight,” Harry said with a sigh while hanging his head.  “And for some reason I don’t understand, I need to name them.”

“Only you, Harry,” Susan said shaking her head, “only you.”

“How much trouble am I in?” Harry asked.  He had always been of the ‘get bad things over with and out of the way’ school of thought.  Maybe it would hurt less if she just told him to go to hell right away.

“Trouble?  Do you think I’m mad at you?” Susan asked taking his hand.

~ Are you two going to mate now? ~ The little red dragon asked.  ~ I mean, can’t you wait until AFTER we eat? ~

~ Shut up! ~ One of the others hissed.  ~ This is so romantic; do not spoil it by being YOU. ~

“You’re not?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Oh Harry, I already knew you were a Parselmouth, I learned that second year, remember?  I also know that you want nothing to do with this tournament.”  Susan pulled Harry into a hug.  “You are doing what you need to do to survive this stupid game, and since one of the things you did was get me out of that damned lake, I don’t mind at all.  The fact that you’re in first place doesn’t hurt.  Besides, I’ve looked at the rules since they chose to involve me without as much as a ‘by your leave’, there is nothing in there about making a deal with the opposition, so when you paid the Merfolk for their help, you didn’t break a single rule.  And now that I know about your being able to speak with dragons I can tell you that being able to speak to them isn’t against the rules either.”

“I just don’t want to disappoint you,” he whispered.

“Oh Harry, you aren’t going to disappoint me,” Susan laughed.  “You are almost the perfect boyfriend.  You’re clean, you’re polite, you pay attention to me, you don’t try to grope me without permission, and you’re terrified that I might dump you almost all the time.”

“So I’m a good boyfriend?”

Susan smiled.  “As boyfriends go, I rate you a nice solid nine.”

“Out of ten?” Harry asked smiling.  “I guess I’m almost a great boyfriend then.”

“Nine, as in the number of seconds it would take me to replace you if you ever start to annoy me,” Susan said taking hold of his jumper once again and planting a kiss on his lips, provoking a chorus of ~ ewww! ~ and at least one longing sigh from the dragon hatchlings.

When she broke the kiss, Susan took his hand.  “Come on Uncle Harry, we should introduce your new family to Uncle Hagrid, he’ll be thrilled, then we can start thinking up names for your little entourage.”

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‘Uncle’ Hagrid was indeed thrilled with the appearance of the clutch of mini-dragons to the point where he began crying over his lost Norbert.

“Yeh are one lucky man, Harry Potter!” the half giant said wiping at his eyes with a tablecloth sized handkerchief.  “I only had one sweet baby dragon, an' yeh, yeh've got five!”

~ We aren’t babies! ~ The small male hissed.

“I’m only the baby sitter Hagrid,” Harry explained ignoring the small red dragon as Susan giggled at the antics of the small creatures she had been terrified by only an hour before.  “We’ve got to give them back.”

“I know, I know.  As much as it hurts, they’ll go back to their mum.  So, yeh get to name the sweet darlin’s do yeh?  Tha'’s an honor Harry, a great honor.”

~ Names!  Yes!  I want to be Bloodwing… Or Reddeth, or something cool like that. ~ The small male called out. ~ Or maybe… Smaug! ~

~ Uncle Harry should name you something that suits you, ~ one of his sisters interjected.  ~ Uncle Harry, you should name him ‘FlamingFart’, that would fit him perfectly. ~

The snarky female found herself tackled by her brother, and the two went rolling about Hagrid’s cabin spouting flame in every direction.

~ Will you two behave, please? ~ Harry hissed as he stamped out the small fires the fight had caused before returning to his seat next to Susan and his conversation with Hagrid.  “Kiska said that I needed to name them, but she didn’t way why.”

“I wish I could speak with the lil’l darlings as easily as yeh do,” Hagrid said as he picked one of the females up and set her on her lap, stroking her dorsal spines as he did so, causing the miniature dragon to purr not unlike a cat.  Unfortunately the purr was accompanied by gouts of flames that set the half giant’s beard aflame, which he calmly put out by batting at the flames with his free hand, never stopping his stroking of the dragon’s back for a moment.  “Dragons on their own don’t take names, yeh see.  Humans have always named the dragons they have come in to contact with.  Tha' yeh’ve been selected is a great honor.”

“Wow,” Harry breathed.  “This is a lot of responsibility; I’ve never needed to name anything before… well, other than Hedwig.”

“Only you, Harry,” Susan laughed.

“Oh, it’s more responsibility than either of yeh know,” Hagrid pointed out.  “Since the lil’l darlings imprinted on yeh when they hatched Harry, yeh will be part o' their lives forever.  They know how yeh are feelin', an' if they think yeh’re in trouble, they will move Heaven an' Earth ter be with yeh in yer time o' need.”  Hagrid paused and looked about his small cabin, as if he thought that there might be eavesdroppers around.  “I never told anyone, but when Fudge sent me to Azkaban yer second year, my Norbert felt my despair an' came to me to protect me.  Dementors don’t like dragon fire any more than any other creature.  It was only 'cause o' ‘im I survived as well as I did.”

“Who is Norbert?” Susan asked.

“Hagrid sort of acquired a dragon egg our first year,” Harry explained.  “Norbert is the dragon that hatched from that egg.  Hagrid are you telling me that Norbert flew all the way from Albania?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Flew?  Nah, fer long distance travel dragons have somethin' like apparition, once they are in the air, they jus' burst into flame an' are someplace else.  It’s sumptin' to watch, when Norbert left to return to his home I watched as he did it.  Amazin’,” the half giant shook himself at the memory.  “But fer now the babies must be gettin' hungry.”

~ We’re not babies! ~ The small male insisted yet again.

Setting the female back onto the floor, Hagrid rose from his massive chair and rummaged about in a huge pantry cupboard for several moments before he emerged with a pair of headless sheep carcasses, still clad in their wool.  Susan and Harry shared a look of muted horror, and not for the first time Harry had some serious concerns about Hagrid’s diet.

“This should do nicely,” Hagrid rumbled as he tossed the two ewes on the floor next to the miniature dragons.  Immediately the red male tackled one of the carcasses and was rolling around on the floor with it, ripping mouthfuls of flesh from the main body with great enthusiasm.  His sisters, on the other hand, settled around the other ewe and began to nibble delicately on the carcass, at least when compared with their brother.

~ Thith id GOOD, ~ the male enthused through a mouth full of flesh. ~ Iths betta when you mak da kill yersef o course… ~

~ That is disgusting! ~ The female Hagrid had been stroking said with a sniff.

~ Uncle Harry! ~ One of her sisters called out.  ~ Make him stop being so disgusting. ~

Harry translated the exchange for Sue and Hagrid despite the shade of green Susan was turning.

“I think I’d best head back to the castle,” she said, trying not to look at the mess the small dragon was making.

“I’ll walk you back,” Harry said, until she laid a hand on his chest.

“Don’t be silly,” she said with a forced smile.  “The fresh air will do me good.” She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.  “Besides,” Susan whispered in his ear, “we both know that if you leave your ‘babies’ alone with Hagrid their mother will never get them back.”

For several long seconds after Susan had left Hagrid’s cabin, Harry continued to stare at the door, only to be interrupted by Hagrid’s rumbling chuckle.

"What?"

"It's just that watchin' you two is like watchin' yer Mum an' Da once they stopped fightin' all the time and started payin' attention to each other," the big man laughed.

~ Is she going to be our Auntie? ~ One of the females, the one obsessed with romance asked while delicately wiping her muzzle with a bit of the still intact fleece.

~ You never mind that, little Miss Romance, ~ Harry hissed before turning his attention back to his first magical friend.  "And you, Hagrid, quit giving the dragons ideas."

Once again, the half giant chuckled in the face of Harry's glare.  "Right then, names fer the lil' darlin's?"

~ Names! ~ the small red male called out with his mouth full, looking up from inside his ewe, ~Yef!  Names! ~ He then tore into the carcass once again.

"I suppose you're right Hagrid."  Harry went to his knees in front of the females. ~ Alright, Kiska said I was to name you, but what would you like to be called? ~

One of the black miniature dragons looked askance at the question. ~ Uncle Harry!  A dragon's name is given, never taken! ~ She huffed sounding for all the world like a dragonesque Hermione.

Harry grinned widely, he was sorely tempted, but more than a little frightened by what Hermione might do if she ever found out he had named a she-dragon after her.  ~ So the rules are important to you are they? ~

The she-dragon's eyes grew large, and then she looked down shyly.  ~ I just think that there are proper ways to act... ~

~ Well then, let's see.  The Goddess Juno was the protector and special counselor of the state of Rome...  Rules were important to her, I would guess, so how does the name Juno sound to you? ~

~ Juno? ~ she asked, a sense of wonder in her voice.  ~ My name is Juno!  I have a name! ~

~ Me next Uncle Harry? ~ One of the other females asked, her tail thumping on the floor in excitement.

"Makes a right racket that one," Hagrid noted, "She must really want to be named."

"She is a loud one, isn't she?" Harry laughed.

~ I'm sorry, ~ the dragon hissed quietly, dropping her head to focus on the floor, ~ don't mean to be loud. ~

~ Never apologize for being yourself; ~ Harry said stroking his hand along her dorsal spines.  ~ You got your brother good when he wanted to wrestle earlier.  I think 'Thumper' might be a good name for you. ~

~ Thumper? ~ the dragon said, as if trying the sound of the name, before she nodded. ~ I'm Thumper! ~

Harry stroked Thumper’s back, and knelt down to lift the small dragon that had been so happy sitting on Hagrid’s lap to his own.  He smiled as she attempted to cuddle into his smaller form.  ~ You do like being held, don’t you?  ~

~ I do, Uncle Harry, ~  the dragon said rubbing her head against Harry’s jaw.

~ That tells me your name should be Cuddles ~
 

~ ooh, ~ the dragon thrummed.  ~ Cuddles, I like that! ~

~ I thought you might, ~ Harry laughed as he set her back down onto the floor.  He then turned to the final female of Kiska’s clutch.  ~ And you, little Miss Romance, ~

~ Me? ~ The sole unnamed female squeaked.

~ Yes you, don't think I didn't hear you when Susan and I were saying good bye. ~

The small dragon seemed to gather herself, ~ I like Aunt Susan, ~ she huffed.  ~ She keeps you in line! ~

~ She does, ~ Harry admitted.  ~ I think we're going to call you 'Sweetie'.  What do you think of that? ~

Harry was unprepared for the flying tackle the small Dragon threw at him, nor for the wet forked tongue that seemed determined to bathe every part of his face.

~ I love my new name Uncle Harry, ~ the crying, kissing, miniature she dragon sobbed, ~ And I love you! ~

~ Oh big hairy deal, ~ the scarlet male said as he let loose with a belch that filled the entire cabin with a ball of flame.  ~ It's my turn Uncle Harry, I don't want a girly name, I want to be Smaug! ~

Harry rolled to a sitting position, wondering if he should be worried by the amount of dragon spit currently on his face.  ~ Oh, I haven't forgotten you.  You said that you wanted to be Bloodwing, or Reddeth, or even Smaug, but there are already many dragons with those sorts of names aren't there? ~

The thought that he might not be the first to use those names seemed to surprise the small red dragon, ~ I guess so, ~

~ No, ~ Harry continued, ~ I've got the perfect name for you... ~

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~ And did my Hatchlings behave? ~

~ They did, ~ Harry nodded.  ~ And we had a lot of fun. ~

~ Knowing my young drake, I find that to be somewhat questionable. ~

~ He is a handfull, no doubt, but he is a credit to his mum, all your little ones are. ~

~ You lie badly Harry, but the hatchlings truly love you. ~

Harry watched as the five miniature dragons swooped by in an elaborate game of high flying tag.  ~ The idea that five dragons had somehow bonded with me was a bit of a shock, but it seems to have gone both ways. ~

~ I rather thought it would, ~ Kiska laughed.  

~ Is there a problem with the collars? ~ Harry asked hesitantly.

~ Not at all, occasionally a new servant appears in the homelands and starts making something similar and it becomes fashionable for a while, ~ she gestured toward her flying children, ~ my hatching will likely spark the latest revival of the fashion.  I noticed that each of them carry different markings. ~

“The collars are inscribed with the little one’s names, ~ Harry shrugged.  ~ It seemed the easiest way to relay the names to your keepers…. ~ Harry hesitated for a moment, ~ your servants. ~

~ Well done Harry, ~ Kiska laughed.  ~ I believe you were promised an exchange of treasure… ~ the she-dragon dipped her head under her left wing and emerged with a golden… something in her teeth.

Harry gingerly reached up to take the offered… treasure.  His eyes went wide when he saw what it was.

~ I know little of your kind’s mating rituals ~ Kiska rumbled, ~ but the tones of this trinket matches closely those I’ve seen worn by human females that share your young mate’s coloring. ~

~ I…  She's not my... ~ Harry slowly came to terms with the offered treasure in his hand.  ~ Thank you Kiska. ~

~ Come along you lot! ~ Kiska called to her children, sounding disturbingly like a large scaly Molly Weasley. ~ Say good bye to your Uncle Harry, we’ve got to be going! ~

Harry turned to wave at the young dragons when he was hit in the chest and knocked to the ground by a speeding Thumper.  ~ Oh, Uncle Harry, I'll miss you so much! ~ The small dragon giggled as she once again slathered his face with her forked tongue.

Harry paused for a moment while he regained the ability to breathe, and to a lesser extent, his will to live.  Somehow the fifty pound miniature dragons saw nothing wrong with ramming into a person at better than a dead run.  "I'll... miss you too Thumper," he managed to gasp before he was mobbed by all five of the miniature dragons.

~ Come along children, ~ Kiska called again, waiting for her brood to clamber upon her back before launching herself into the sky.

Harry struggled to his feet while he watched in amazement as the huge dragon gained altitude faster than he could ever have managed with his broom, and then seemed to hang in the air for a moment before bursting into flame and streaking away, leaving flaming contrails behind her.

Bloody Hell!  Hagrid had said it was amazing to see a dragon doing that odd flaming transportation thing of theirs.  Until that moment, Harry had never appreciated the half giant’s penchant for understatement.

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Harry found Susan waiting for him in the entry hall.
 
“Your playmate’s mum was spotted landing near Hagrid’s house,” she said with a smile.  “I missed you, but I figured that you’d be along as soon as your little friends left.”
 
“Funny girl,” Harry said with a smile.  “She paid me you know.”
 
“She did?”
 
“Yep,” Harry dug in his pocket, producing the heavy gold chain from which hung an emerald half the size of a hen’s egg.  “Like it?”
 
“Harry,” Susan gasped, “it’s beautiful!”
 
“A bit gaudy for me,” Harry noted.  “It would spoil the lines of this shirt.  Would you like it?”
 
“Would I like it?” She gasped again.  “Harry it’s beautiful, but it’s too much!  I couldn’t accept a gift like this!”
 
“Oh?” Harry asked in a tone of disappointment.  “Ok then.  I still don’t want it.  Kiska said that she thought it would look good on someone with your coloring…” Harry paused for a moment in consideration.  “Ginny Weasley’s a redhead too, maybe she would like it.”
 
“Give me that!” Sue said snatching the necklace from his hands before looking deeply into Harry’s eyes.  “You’re sure?  Harry this is worth a fortune.”
 
“Is it?” Harry’s grin spread into a fully-fledged smile.  “I’m very sure.”
 
“Help me put it on?” Susan asked handing the necklace back to Harry and then lifting her hair from her neck.  Harry move behind his girlfriend and after fumbling for a few moments, mostly due to his being distracted by the view down his girlfriend’s blouse, the Gryffindor managed to fasten the clasp of the heavy chain.
 
“Merlin, Harry,” Susan breathed as she examined herself in the mirror on the wall.
 
“So, I’m doing ok in this boyfriend thing am I?” Harry asked.  “Better than a nine?”
 
“You were all the way up to a nice even ten there for a while,” Sue said with her own smile before leaning forward to give him a kiss on the cheek.  “But then you had to go lose ground by mentioning giving my necklace to Ginny Weasley.  I’m sorry Harry, but you’re down to eight and three quarters.”
 
“Ah,” Harry nodded.  “So basically, I can’t win?”
 
“Oh, Harry,” Susan sighed as she took his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder as they made their way to the Great Hall.  “You’re with me aren’t you?  That’s practically the definition of winning.”
 
Harry could not help but smile wider.  He loved her teasing and sense of humor.  Susan was right, Harry decided, he was winning, and if he was not careful, he might get used to it.
 
The pair made the turn into the Great Hall only to find themselves coming face to face with Draco Malfoy.  Harry blinked twice trying to reconcile what he was seeing with his image of the Slytherin prince.
 
“Merlin, Bones,” the blond laughed, “are you still leading Scarhead around by the nose?  Or did you get your grip a bit lower?”
 
Harry glanced at Susan to see if she was hurt by Malfoy’s words, but was surprised to see her struggling to hold back her laughter.
 
“What the hell are you wearing Draco?” Susan asked a tone of incredulity in her voice.

“What?  This?” Draco gestured to the leather flying helmet complete with goggles he was wearing.  “This is the latest fashion.”
 
“Latest fashion?” Harry laughed.  “Where?  Around a 1917 Aerodrome?”
 
On either side of Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were struggling to hold in their own laughter, a fact not missed by the blond boy.  Both of the bookends earned a savage glare before Malfoy returned his attention to Harry.  
 
“You know nothing of high fashion Potter,” Draco sneered, “as is evidenced to how you’re dressed.”
 
“Sure thing Biggles,” Harry laughed, “whatever you say.”
 
It was obvious to Harry that while the Biggles reference had flown right over the Slytherin’s helmeted head, but Draco was utterly sure that he had been insulted.  Susan’s laughter pushed Goyle over the edge, followed quickly by Victor Crabbe.
 
“Damn you, Potter!” Draco growled.
 
“Harry Potter may not know much of fashion,” Fleur Delacour’s lightly accented voice interjected into the conversation, “but I do, and that grotesque waste of good leather is not a current fashion anywhere in Europe.  Where did you say this was the height of fashion Little Nothing?”
 
Draco looked between Harry and Fleur.  Harry imagined that his rival might be trying to decide which of the two the Slytherin hated more.  “You know nothing!” Draco screamed before storming from the Great Hall.
 
That was the final straw for Harry as he surrendered to his giggles.  He and Susan ended up leaning against each other laughing until tears came.

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"Oh - My - God!" Hanna all but screamed when she spotted Susan's new necklace once the pair were in the dorm room they shared in the Hufflepuff dungeons.  "Where did you get that?"

"From Harry," Susan sighed longingly.

"I never thought I’d see you so pathetically love sick Sue," Hannah laughed at her friend, with only a hint of envy.  If she had only been a few minutes faster, then SHE might be the one on Harry Potter's arm.  However, if it was not her, then Hannah was glad that Susan was having a good time.  "This is a beautiful piece," She commented lifting the necklace from the tray where Susan had deposited it and held it so that the light from the wall sconce shone through the emerald.  "Imagine if it were real?"

Susan nodded, but did not say anything.  Her blush caught Hannah's attention.  "This is real?" Hannah asked in a shocked tone of voice as she began to examine the gem even more closely.

"Yeah, I think so."  Susan said quietly.  "I've never had anything like that.  Do you think I'm only interested in Harry for his money?"

"Susan, don't be silly," Hannah said blinking in surprise.  "You thought he was cute first year when all anyone could see was a ragamuffin in rags."

"I did," Susan admitted, "though not as much as you!"

"Hmph!" Hannah huffed.  She lifted the gem to examine it in the light yet again.  "This is beautiful, when did he get it?"

"Harry said that the dragon gave it to him."

Hannah looked from the gem to her best friend, her expression one of concern.  "Are you feeling alright Susan?  What did you mean 'the dragon gave it to him'?"

Susan hesitated, but the words came tumbling out.  She would trust Hannah with her life after all.  "When we watched Harry fighting the dragon, not everything was what it seemed."

"What do you mean?"

"It turns out that dragons aren't the mindless beasts everyone thinks they are," Susan explained.  "Remember second year when we found out Harry could speak to snakes?"

"Scared me to death," Hannah nodded.  "Ernie soiled himself."

"Yeah," Susan grinned at the memory of Ernie's humiliation.  Hufflepuffs were team players but even a team would rib a member when an opportunity presented itself.  "Dragons speak Snake."

"What?" Hannah exclaimed.

"Well, actually snakes speak Dragon according to Harry." Susan amended.  "Dragons understand English too.  The Horntail recognized that Harry was a speaker and offered him a deal.  The dragon would lose the fight for the right price."

"Harry cheated?"

"No!" Susan protested shaking her head.  "The rules don't even address the possibility of making a deal with a magical creature.  In fact, the rules don't even seem to consider the possibility that any magical creature is intelligent enough to make a deal with.  When Harry retrieved his egg, the Horntail's eggs hatched and Harry was the first thing they saw."

"Wow," Hannah breathed.  "I was watching the whole time and I never even imagined... But what does that have to do with anything?"

Susan sighed.  "Evidently a hatchling dragon bonds with the first living thing they see. So all five of them bonded to Harry."

"But..." Hannah was starting to wonder if she had been lucky that Susan had found Harry first.  Exposure to the boy had seemingly driven her best friend around the bend.  "Ok, pretending for the moment that what you're saying makes the slightest bit of sense, what does it mean that the baby dragons bonded with Harry."

"They love him.  He's their 'Uncle Harry'"

Hannah blinked, and then stood up and placed the necklace down where she had found it.  "Get your robes on; I think we need to go to Madam Pomfrey so that she can take a look at you."

"Hannah, I am serious.  I was there when they mobbed him.  I watched five miniature dragons lick Harry all over his face and arms, just like little fire-breathing puppies.  The dragon mother came to Harry to have him babysit the little ones."

"Babysit?"  Hannah sat down on her bed and looked at her friend with concern.  "Susan, listen to yourself."

"I know how crazy it sounds Hannah," Susan protested.  "But I saw it happen.  Harry said that the dragon gave him the necklace for his trouble."

"Susan."

"Do you think I’m enjoying sounding like a crazy person Hannah?  Like I said, I know what it sounds like, believe me, I know.  But is this really any more insane than the thought that one of our classmates could go toe to toe with a dragon, and not only survive, but win?"

"Well no..." the blonde hesitated.

"Look, I was involved with the second task..."

"I was watching," Hannah nodded.  "Harry did some big spell that no one I know of could tell me what it was."

"Harry did a potions-based light show that he got from one of his father's best friends.  That's all it was, a light show."

Hannah frowned.  "Then how did he..."

"Harry made a deal with the Merfolk.  He traded something called 'peanut butter' for me."

Again Hannah blinked.  With a Muggleborn mum, she knew exactly what peanut butter was.  "Let me get this straight.  You claim that Harry made a deal with a dragon, adopted a clutch of baby dragons, made a deal with the Merfolk to retrieve you for bloody peanut butter no less, and was paid with that huge emerald for babysitting a clutch of dragons and you're wondering if you were dating him because of his money?"

"That does sound marginally insane," Susan agreed.

"I think," her friend said quietly, "that the two of you are utterly mental.  You might as well be mental together."  Hannah pondered for a moment.  "Does Harry even have any money?"

Susan's brow furrowed for a moment.  "Now that you ask, I don't really know."  Her expression brightened.  "I'm not a gold-digger.  I'm just insane!"

"And that's at least a little bit better," Hannah snarked.

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Charlie Weasley entered Constance Beaumont’s office at a dead run. “Boss! Kiska’s back, and she’s got her brood with her.”

An expression of relief flickered across Beaumont’s features. She had not been looking forward to informing the Reserves’ Board of Directors that one of their endangered Horntails had disappeared with all five of her offspring.

“Any idea where she might have gone?”

Charlie shook his head. Weasley had been the one to discover Kiska’s deserted lair three days before, and had been tasked with the search that had turned out to be utterly fruitless. Even with the unprecedented disappearance of the Horntail, it seemed it was something about her return that was causing him so much concern.

“Not a clue boss, but wherever she went, there were Wizards. Her brood have…” Charlie paused as if wondering if what he feared telling Beaumont what he had found would cause more problems than the original disappearance had. “Hell boss, you’ve got to see it. I saw it and I don’t believe it. You’d have me shipped off to a mind healer if I just told you without proof.”

Beaumont eyed the big redhead suspiciously. Weasley was a good handler, but he tended to think the dragons were smarter than they actually were. What could possibly have spooked the big man so effectively?

“Alright Weasley, show me what’s got your knickers in a twist. You had best not be wasting my time.” It took Europe’s most senior Dragon Handler a few moments to lock up her paperwork before following Weasley from her office. The pair mounted brooms used to cut the travel time across the Reserve. Together they landed in front of Kiska’s cavern lair.

Beaumont was moderately surprised to see a crowd of her other dragon handlers had gathered near the cave and were all watching the big black she dragon playing with her brood.

“Ok,” she admitted, "it’s not all that common for a mother dragon to play with their little ones, but it’s not all that uncommon either. Is this what the fuss is about?”

“No Boss. It’s the little ones…” it seemed Charlie was still a bit rattled by whatever was up. “I’ll have to show you.” The man put two fingers of his left hand to his lips and issued a piercing whistle. One of the miniature dragons peeled off from the others and flew toward Weasley at an amazing rate of speed. The youngster flew right into the big man’s chest knocking him to the ground and slathering his face with its… her, tongue.

That was very undragon behavior.

“When did you teach her that Weasley?” Beaumont asked. “Why did you teach her that?”

“She didn’t get it from me Boss,” Charlie said as he climbed to his feet, wiping his face, while the small she dragon sat watching him not unlike a very alert dog. “She came back from wherever Kiska took her little ones doing this. Did you notice the collar?”

“I’ve seen dragon’s with collars before, it’s been about 20 years since any of the keepers fitted any of the dragons for collars. Not your work I take it?”

“Not mine, and not any of the other lads,” Weasley said while shaking his head. “Kiska’s brood came back from their trip with them, and each of them evidently has a name. This little princess is ‘Thumper’.”

The small dragon evidently recognized her ‘name’ and responded with a dragon’s rumble of pleasure. Beaumont blinked twice. Dragons were never named until they were adults; could one so young understand that it was given a name?

“What are the others named?” she asked.

“The little female who seems to boss the others around is ‘Juno’, the one who is always trying to crawl into your lap is ‘Cuddles’ and the little shy one is ‘Sweetie’.”

“Odd names. What about the male?” Beaumont asked while trying to get a better look at the collar.

“Well, he’s named… Ron.”

“Ron?” Beaumont asked. “What an odd name, not at all like the others.”

“I know,” Weasley agreed. “It’s funny though, I have a younger brother named Ron.”

“Lots of people have brothers named Ron, Weasley, the world doesn’t revolve around your family.”

“I know that Boss,” Charlie responded. “But it sure seems to sometimes.”

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"This just isn't right"

Harry nodded in agreement without tearing his eyes from the Quidditch pitch, or rather what remained of the Quidditch pitch.

"Oh for goodness sake Ron," Hermione huffed.  "All they're doing is growing a hedgerow maze.  As soon as the tournament is over they'll have the pitch restored well before the first match next year."

"That's not the point," Ron protested.  "This is the home of so many dreams and aspirations; it's almost... hallowed ground.  Using it for something like this is just... wrong."

From behind the trio an ominous mumbling started.

"Lk ith mks ny diffc t woo Wedly!"

Harry, Hermione and Ron exchanged confused looks and then turned to face whatever it was that was mumbling.  They found themselves facing a figure clad in dark trousers and an orange hoodie with the hood pulled tight obscuring the wearer's face, allowing them to only see a pair of hate-filled grey eyes peering from the darkness.

The identity of the person in the hoodie was only suggested by the fact that he was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, both appearing to be embarrassed beyond belief by the antics of the wizard in the orange hoodie.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yef!" came the muffled response.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Hermione asked.

"Sufid Mdbld!" the orange figure murmured.  "Ooo wownt unnstd fashn ef id bid ooo."

Harry looked between his friends.  Ron was staring in opened mouth amazement at the muffled Malfoy, while Hermione's brow was furrowed while she attempted to translate the blond git's last muttered statement.  If this were not so pathetically sad, it might be hilarious.

"You!" The lightly accented voice of Fleur Delacour broke into the conversation.  "Did you think I wouldn't react to your lies?  Did you think at all?

"Wha?" Malfoy asked cringing away from the angry French witch.

"This!" she screeched as the shoved a copy of the Daily Prophet into Draco's hands.  Harry grimaced at the sight of it.  The lead story was that Fleur was only in second place in the Tournament because of her Veela powers and that she was using those powers to have Harry at her beck and call.  Susan had thought it was funny, Harry less so.

Evidently Fleur saw no humor in the situation at all.

"You gave that horrible Skeeter woman a quote, Little Nothing, you said that I had 'obviously enthralled all the male champions'.  You just do not learn from your mistakes do you?  If I was using my allure, I certainly wouldn't be in second place over all would I?  Perhaps it is time to teach you once and for all to never cross your betters."

"Ooo cnt!"

"I can do anything I want Little Nothing.  Perhaps I should show you what my allure can do."

By this time, a small crowd had gathered to view the growing spectacle.  Hermione gasped as she seemed realize just what the French Champion was likely going to do, and she began pulling her two best friends away from the scene.

Ron protests that he was torn between wanting to watch as Malfoy get what he deserved and needing to find out where Draco had scored that stylish Chuddly Orange hoodie were silenced as the wide area effect of the Veela allure washed over him.  Harry felt it as well, he watched in amazement as Fleur's appearance shifted from that of a beautiful young woman to a goddess fallen to earth. She almost seemed to glow, her skin flush, her eyes appeared to have grown to almost twice their normal size, wide and unblinking.  In short, she became quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen or imagined.

But…

Somehow she was... wrong.  Harry could not understand just what it was that was wrong about the woman, but despite the young French champion's beauty, she just wasn't...   real.  Trying to determine just what was wrong he stood well away from the developing incident and narrowed his eyes.  Yes, the Fleur was astoundingly gorgeous, but...

"You," Fleur said, picking one of the larger seventh year Slytherins from the growing crowd.  "And you," she continued picking out another.  "This foolish child has offended me; could you show him the error of his ways?  For me? Please?"

The pair seemed to consider her request for a moment, and both shook their heads hesitantly as if they had to think very hard for reasons not to fulfill Fleur's every wish, and then she pouted.

 "For me?"

The hulking pair pushed Crabbe and Goyle out of the way and proceeded to grant Fleur's wish over Draco's muffled threats of calling his father.  Fleur sniffed at the violence and strode away allowing her allure to fade away from the scene.

Harry had mixed feelings.  As a rule, he did not like the idea of people being controlled, being forced to do violence against their will... on the other hand, it was Draco Malfoy, and honestly, it could not happen to a nicer bloke.  He really should try to step in but...

Harry's inner conflict became moot as the two seventh years came out of their daze and stopped beating upon Draco's body.  Greg Goyle looked at the battered form in the orange hoodie in disbelief.

"Oh my God!" Goyle exclaimed.  "They killed Draco!"

Vinnie Crabbe looked to the two seventh years with mild annoyance in his eyes.  "You bastards!"

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Lucius Malfoy glared at his wife.  "This is entirely your fault."

A sculpted eyebrow rose slightly.  "My fault?"

"Yes," Lucius said as he sat straighter in his chair by the boy's bedside.  "Your constant coddling of the boy has made him an idiot."

"I tried to raise him to be worthy of being a Black," Narcissa sniffed.  "I certainly never filled his head with all that 'You're a Malfoy' claptrap, and this mindless pursuit of a young woman who is clearly out of his league is clearly a Malfoy trait.  Nothing like that ever happened on my side of the family."

"A Malfoy trait?  What do you mean by that?  Nothing like this ever came from my side..." Lucius protested.

"Your Uncle Slappy?" Narcissa asked in an acid tone.  "The man was famous for his outrageous pursuit of women.  How many misadventures was he involved in before he was killed by the husband of one of his conquests?"

"Slappy Malfoy was a Hufflepuff!" The tall blond man said with undisguised loathing.  “He would come around and tell me stories of his adventures.  Mother never approved.  As I matured, I came to see her point.  You know very well the last time he was allowed within the walls of the manor was the day of our wedding."

"Which only goes to prove..." Narcissa said smugly.

"Don't try and change the subject on me Narcissa.  I know what you've done.  I don't know how you've managed to hide it, but I know he isn't mine!" Lucius sneered, "Pater Detegit" the man called out with a complex wand movement.  

Narcissa smiled when the glowing letters blossomed over her husband's wand.  Y… O… F… L… A… M… S... U... I... C...U... L...

With a growl, Lucius stormed from the room, leaving Narcissa alone with her son.  She rose from her chair and crossed the room to where Draco lay insensate.  She reached out and brushed one of the few remaining strands of hair from her son's eyes, and Narcissa sighed.  

Narcissa had not thought of Slappy Malfoy in years.  Lucius was utterly correct, Lucretia Malfoy had despised the man, and Narcissa had a sneaking suspicion as to why.  Abraxas Malfoy however had doted upon his younger brother.  It was only after the elder Malfoy brother had died of Dragon Pox that Lucretia had managed to forbid the younger brother's contact with her son.

Slappy had been a layabout, a liar and a cad, but unlike his nephew, he had known his way around the bed sheets.  A smile crossed her lips as she remembered her wedding night after Lucius had fallen asleep, drunk beyond any attempt at consummation, when the black sheep of the Malfoy clan had found her wandering the halls of the manor in frustration.

She leaned over to kiss her injured son, as she wondered, not for the first time, if Lucius was aware that ‘Slappy’ was only his Uncle’s nickname, and that Abraxas had actually named his son for his favorite brother.

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Harry emerged from a passage into a small clearing, panting as if he had run for miles, mostly because he had.  His robes were ripped and smoking in spots from spell and skrewt damage. This entire maze seemed designed to kill people.  It was only due to his general policy of running away very quickly from every encounter that he was still alive.

Someday, Harry swore to himself, someday he was going to find a creature that even Hagrid would be frightened by, and then he was going to lock the half-giant in a box with said creature. Someday.  Bogarts, Skrewts, all manner of predatory plants, oh yes, he and his friend Hagrid were going to have words.

Then, as he stood still in the clearing, Harry saw movement once again, and then he heard Viktor Krum from the center of the clearing.

Ask your questions Sphinx, I have a competition to win!" the Bulgarian proclaimed.

"Very well.  The question is in three parts, answer each and you may pass, fail to answer any of them and pay..." the huge lioness with a woman's face smiled, "a price.  Your first question; what is your name?"

"I am Viktor Krum."

"What is you quest?" she asked.

"I seek the Triwizard Cup."  Viktor confirmed.

"And what," the sphinx asked with a wry grin, "is your favorite color?"

"Blue!" Viktor answered before his eyes went wide after realizing what he had said.  "No!  I meant green!"

"Sorry," the sphinx laughed.  "Your first answer was wrong.  Goodbye Viktor Krum"

Harry watched in amazement as the sphinx waved her left front paw and Viktor was launched into the air, the professional Quidditch champion screamed as he soared through the air falling to the ground out of sight beyond the hedge with a sickening crunch.

"Ah, you've got to love the classics," the sphinx laughed to herself as she pulled what appeared to be a magazine from a bag near her hindquarters.  Harry eased his way closer and saw that the magical creature was working her way through what appeared to be a Sudoku puzzle.  

Harry took another step closer and his foot came down on a stick that broke with a sharp snap.

The sphinx looked up from her puzzle in surprise.  "Well done champion, few have the talent to sneak up on me."

Harry stepped backwards from the magical creature. She had her long, almond-shaped eyes focused on Harry as he gathered his courage and approached.  Harry raised his wand in a quaking hand, hesitating. The sphinx didn't crouch like a cat ready to attack, rather she had put her magazine away and was pacing from side to side of the path, blocking his progress. Then she spoke, in a sultry voice.

“You are very near your goal, champion. The quickest way is past me.”

“So… any chances of you letting me by?" Harry asked quietly, "please?” said Harry, knowing what the answer was going to be, but wondering if sphinxes liked peanut butter.

“No,” she said, continuing to pace. “Not unless you can answer my questions three. Answer all three and I let you pass. Answer wrongly and your life becomes interesting. Remain silent – I will let you walk away from me unscathed.”

Harry fought not to smile.  Who knew that Dudley's fascination with Monty Python would ever have come in handy?  At least the sphinx was not asking riddles like the books all said they did. He had never been any good at puzzling things out, which was Hermione's thing, not his.

“Okay,” he said. “Ask your questions.”

The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very middle of the path, and asked:

"What is your name?"

"Harry Potter,"

The sphinx perked up.  "Harry Potter?  Seriously?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry answered, somewhat surprised by her reaction.  "Is that the second question?"

"No, sorry, it just surprised me to find Harry Potter here," she said starting to babble, "Oh – My – God! I mean I knew you were part of the tournament, but I never dreamed that..."

"What is the second question then?" Harry asked realizing for the first time that being a Boy Who Lived fangirl might not be limited to humans.

"Oh, sorry," the sphinx blushed through her fur, an odd effect.  "What is your quest?"

"Mostly to survive this insanity," Harry answered truthfully.

"Good answer," the sphinx affirmed.  "And now your final question:  What is black and white and read all over?"

Harry blinked.  Surely not... but...  Oh, to hell with it he decided.  How much could the fall hurt, really?"  "A newspaper."

“Yes!” the sphinx exulted.  “I also would have accepted ‘magazine’, and speaking of magazines,” she produced the magazine she had been working the puzzle from, and Harry was more an a little shocked to find that his face filled the cover.  “Could I bother you for an autograph?”

“Sure,” said Harry, and, amazed that he had somehow gotten away with it again.  After hastily scribbling his name, Harry carefully edged past the sphinx and made his way to the far side of the clearing.  Just as he reached the exit, he heard the Sphinx speak behind him

“Welcome Champion, you may pass if you can answer my questions three. Answer all three and I will let you pass. Answer wrongly and your life becomes interesting. Remain silent – I will let you walk away from me unscathed.”

Harry paused to see who might be following him.

“I’m ready,” Cedric’s voice carried from the darkness.

“What is your Name?”

“Cedric Diggory,” the tall Hufflepuff answered.

“What is your quest?”

“I seek the Triwizard Cup!”

“And your last question;” the sphinx asked, a sly look of amusement in her eyes, “Under the Dewey Decimal system, what class would the study of languages be indexed under?”

Cedric blinked.  “That would be the 400 class.”

The sphinx blinked twice.  “That’s… that’s right.  How did you know that?”

“When you’re dating Hermione Granger,” Cedric chuckled, “you just have to know that sort of thing.”
 

As he headed deeper into the maze, Harry just had to laugh.

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Harry wiped the blood from his eyes and stumbled onward.  He had survived four more of the maze’s traps, including a strange golden mist that somehow inverted gravity.

He had to be close by now; he just had to be… Hermione's trusty 'point me' charm had his wand telling him he was bang on course; as long as he did not meet anything too horrible, he might have a chance…

Harry broke into a run. He had a choice of paths up ahead. “Point Me!” he whispered again to his wand, and it spun around and pointed him to the right-hand one. He dashed up this one and saw light ahead.

The Triwizard Cup was gleaming on a pedestal a hundred yards away. Suddenly a dark figure hurtled out onto the path in front of him.

Harry felt the possibility of winning slipping from his fingers.  Cedric was going to get there first.

The tall Hufflepuff was sprinting as fast as he could toward the cup, and Harry knew he would never catch up, Cedric was much taller, stronger, had much longer legs…

That was when Harry spotted a huge… something over the hedge to his left, moving quickly along a path that intersected with the one he and Cedric were on.  Whatever it was, it was moving so fast Cedric was about to run into it, and Cedric, his eyes on the cup, had not seen it…
 

“Cedric!” Harry shouted. “Look out!”
 

Cedric must not have heard him, or else the Hufflepuff thought that Harry was trying to distract him from the prize, the young man ran full bore throat first into an extended leg of a gigantic spider, knocking the breath from his body and dropping the young man to the ground insensate, his wand flying from his grasp and disappearing into the brush.

The Acromantula regarded the fallen Hufflepuff for a moment before spotting Harry, and immediately started barreling toward the boy faster than any eight-legged creature should be able to.

 
“Stupefy!” Harry shouted, his wand bucking in his hand; the spell hit the spider’s gigantic, hairy black body, but for all the good it did, he might as well have thrown a stone at it; the spider jerked, scuttled around, and continued its rampage toward Harry.
 

“Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy!”
 

It was no use - the spider was either so large, or so magical that the spells were doing no more than annoying it. Harry had one horrifying glimpse of eight shining black eyes and razor-sharp pincers before it was upon him.
 

Harry was pinned to the ground by the massive front legs; struggling madly, he tried to kick at the spider; his legs connected with nothing.  Harry experienced gut clinching terror as the spider lowered its pincers closer to his face

His horror at the sight of the pincers only inches from his face was not abated in the slightest when he spotted a small pink bow on the side of the huge spider’s head.

Harry was sure that his revenge on Hagrid was about to be put off forever, when he heard something that he never expected to.

“I'm Missy Aranea, Mr. Potter, from News of the Magical World.  Do you have a comment for my readers on winning the Triwizard Tournament?”

“What?” Harry asked incredulously.

“I’m Missy Aranea, Mr. Potter, and I’m a reporter for the News of the Magical World.”

Harry stared into the closest of the huge spider’s eight eyes and tried to wrap his mind around being interviewed by an eight-legged Rita Skeeter.  Could his life possibly get any weirder?

“I haven’t won yet,” he protested.

“A trifle,” the spider huffed, clacking her massive mandibles mere inches from his face while producing a quill and notepad from… somewhere.  “The French human was incapacitated by one of the skrewts," she said checking what appeared to be notes, "the Bulgarian broke his leg after the third time he failed at answering Brenda’s questions,”

“Brenda?” Harry asked, still trying to believe the situation in which he found himself.

“The Sphinx, a marvelous girl, she throws the best parties.”

Harry reflected that, no, it was extremely unlikely that his life could possibly get any weirder.  “Oh, ok.”

“And the other English human did himself damage when he ran into me.  You’re a shoe in.” Missy concluded.

“And you want a quote?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” the spider affirmed.

“Uh, I’m proud to be representing Hogwarts and hope that everyone survives this insanity.”

“Wonderful!” the spider enthused, “now, could I get a picture of you taking the cup?”

“Sure,” Harry agreed, knowing that he would agree with anything that would get the spider off his chest.  “Excellent idea.”

After he managed to stand, Harry made his way over to check on Cedric.  The seventh year was starting to moan, which Harry took as a sign that he was going to be OK.  He waited a few moments while Missy set up her camera.

“Alright, big smile, take the cup as I take the picture.  Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.

“Alright, on three.  One, two, and now!”

Harry grabbed the handle of the Triwizard Cup just as he was blinded by the camera’s huge flash.

 
Instantly, Harry felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground. He could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling him onward in a howl of wind and swirling color, and Harry’s only thought at that moment was that he was not surprised in the least.  It had just turned out to be that kind of day.

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