"Hey, there, kiddo," Sirius says as Harry crosses the threshold from the great hall into the entrance hall, and immediately Harry throws himself at his godfather, enveloping him in a hug. Sirius laughs, hugging Harry tightly back, and then he smacks Harry affectionately on the back before letting him give Remus a hug as well. Standing in the doorway, he sees Lucius and Narcissa standing together, and he gives them a smile, heading over to them - he's not surprised when Narcissa gives him a tight hug, nor when Lucius gently pats the side of his cheek.

"You guys here to watch the Third Task?" Harry asks, and Lucius gives a small incline of his head. Harry taps his fingers against his thigh, bouncing a little from his toes back onto his heels, and he feels Sirius' hand touch against his shoulder. He'd spent all day in one of the unused classrooms with Cedric, going through drills for one situation or another, and now the day is finally here, he is...

Well.

Harry actually doesn't feel anxious, or worried, or anything like that - if anything, he just wants to get going. He guesses this is what Muggle sprinters feel like just before the starting gun goes off: he just wants to start already, without wanting to wait around, but he isn't really scared. He'd been rushing around that morning, throwing on his cloths - he'd laid a robe out ready to take up in the morning, but one of the lads must have stolen it during the night as a joke, and he'd had to rush around to grab a different one.

"Have you been training, Harry?" Narcissa asks, her expression serious and her tone slightly stern, and Harry nods his head. Narcissa's arm is linked with Lucius', and she leans slightly against him, but while Narcissa seems the epitome of calm, Harry can see the slight tremor through the dragonhide of Lucius' black gloves.

"Yes, Ma'am," he says, nodding his head, and then he says, "Me and Cedric are going to win this, Lucius - don't worry."

"Cedric and I," is all Lucius says in stiff response, and Harry hears Sirius laugh.

"He's been worrying about you all week," Sirius says gleefully, and although he isn't at all deterred by the furious glare Lucius levels at him, Remus seems to be deterred on his behalf, and nudges Sirius in the side. "But, uh, so have I, obviously," Sirius adds after a pause, and Harry laughs.

"Good luck, Harry," Lucius says quietly, in a voice that isn't especially warm but nonetheless holds a quiet gentleness, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder, and then he and Narcissa move out into the courtyard together, making their way down the hill and towards the colosseum.

"How are you feeling?" Remus asks, and Harry examines his face - in the past few months, Remus has looked healthier, less pallid, with more colour coming into his face, and Harry's seen that he's put on weight. He looks a little pale today, and Harry can see that he's stiff with worry, but he's trying to hide it.

"I'm feeling pretty great," Harry replies lightly, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. "Really, Remus, I'm feeling confident."

"That's what worries me," Remus murmurs, displaying the mildest hint of further anxiety, and Harry laughs. Sirius does too, smacking Remus affectionately on the back, and when McGonagall comes out of the great hall, Remus steps away to speak with her. Harry walks outside alongside Sirius, their steps in sync as they move out of the courtyard and over the grass down the hill.

"Found your old chess set," Harry says, and Sirius glances at him, confusion on his face. "In the crawlspace in the Gryffindor tower - we found some crates of firewhiskey, your old chess board halfway through a game... Some magazines." Sirius begins to laugh, first a little chuckle, and then a loud guffaw that rings out over the grounds as he throws his head back, clutching at his own belly. When he finally stops, catching his breath as best he can and wiping a tear from one of his eyes, he shakes his head, looking up at the fluffy, white clouds in the sky.

"Merlin, those magazines..." Sirius mutters, shaking his head. His cheeks are red from laughing, the tops of them wet with tears, and he grabs Harry in half a hug, pulling him close and pressing his nose into the top of Harry's hair, his breath hot against Harry's scalp. "I'd forgotten about that." Sirius pats Harry's shoulder, walking with him, half-leaning on Harry, and he says, "That was just me and James' spot. We'd go there when Peter and Remus were in class, or when they were off doing something. Me and James were friends first, before the four of us all really got friendly together." Sirius lets Harry go, and they walk side-by-side again, with Harry glancing at Sirius thoughtfully.

There's quiet between them: the only sound is the light rustle the summer breeze makes in the leaves off to the side of them, and distantly Harry can hear some cries far off in the Forbidden Forest. Sounds like something's being disturbed, whatever it is, but it's not uncommon to hear weird noises from the woods on the wind, especially in the summer time.

"Who was winning?" Sirius asks. "The chess game?"

"White," Harry says, and Sirius' chuckle is rueful.

"Yeah. James always made me play black - said it was my namesake." Harry sniggers, shaking his head, and Sirius' grin is soft. Looking off to the side, Sirius' fond smile only lasts a few moments, and then it fades away from his face, replaced with a frown. "Who's that?"

Harry turns his head to look, and he sees at the edge of the wood a short figure disappearing under the canopy of the trees. Harry frowns, furrowing his brow slightly, and he shares a look with Sirius before he realizes.

"It must have been Flitwick," Harry says, understanding dawning, and he shakes his head, turning with Sirius away from the forest to walk towards the colosseum. "Probably doing some extra wards at the edge of the forest - you know how they're taking security a little more seriously with people on the grounds for the tournament."

"Harry!" calls a voice from the path, and Cedric waves to him, gesturing for Harry to join him. "Come on, they want us to get in the tent!"

"Good luck, Harry," Sirius says, giving Harry one last hug, and he ruffles Harry's hair. "You don't need it, though." Harry nods his head, and he sprints up the grassy knoll up to Cedric, and the two of them walk through the side entrance under the colosseum's walls, into the little tent with Viktor and Fleur. At the tent's entrance, looking like he's lost weight and shaking slightly in his place, Ludo Bagman stands, regularly pushing aside the tent flaps and peering outside into the arena.

Harry leans forwards, trying to sneak a peek as to what's waiting for them on the dirt ground, but before he can look the tent flap closes again. Bagman's fat fingers tap constantly against his thighs, and rather than his usual, casual slouch he stands very straight and rigid, his eyes flitting nervously around the room.

Frowning at Bagman, Viktor shoots a glance at Fleur, Cedric and Harry, and Harry gives a shrug of his shoulders. Before any of them can venture a question, however, Amelia Bones strides through the tent flaps, clapping her hands together, her chin raised.

"Now then, Champions!" Bones says, looking between the four of them, and they all give her their full attention. Bagman hovers awkwardly behind her, shaking like a Bludger in its casement, but Bones ignores him. "The task before you is a simple one - simple, though not easy. Platforms will raise from the arena floor, and it is up to you not to drop to the ground - you'll be facing spells and curses designed to throw you down, and there'll be beasts facing you too. The last champion standing will win - Diggory, Potter, I'm afraid you count as a duo here too: if one of you hits the ground, you're both out of the running."

"Is that it?" Harry asks. "A glorified game of don't touch the lava?" Bones looks at him, a slight furrow to her brow betraying her momentary confusion, and then with a serious expression she shakes her head.

"This isn't a game of anything, Mr Potter." Taking a step back, Bones gestures for them to follow her, and the final words she says are a quiet, "Good luck."

The seats in the arena are full of people, and the yells and cheers ring in Harry's ears as a vague amalgamation of loud noise as he and Cedric stand on a chalked out circle in the ground. Viktor stands in another, and Fleur in a third - each of the circles is painted in white on the ground, and they're perhaps five metres in their diameter, but each of them makes the decision to stand in the middle.

Harry looks out around the stands as Bagman makes his announcements, his wand held in a shaking hand to his throat, and he looks at the other students, at various people he recognizes and those he doesn't - some of the wizards and witches wear robes that are fashionable abroad rather than in Britain, but others Harry recognizes from around Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. He freezes, however, when he sees Professor Sprout sat in the middle of a stand, not because he's surprised she's watching, but because she's sharing a paper bag of sweets with Flitwick.

How could Flitwick have possibly managed to move so fast, from the edge of the woods to the stands?

"Cedric," Harry says. "There's something not quite right here." Cedric frowns, looking at him concernedly, his blue eyes wide.

"What? What do you mean?" Ludo Bagman is looking right at Harry. Harry meets his gaze, and immediately Bagman looks elsewhere, looking up to the sky as he keeps on talking, and Harry shakes his head.

"I don't know. I don't know, but Bagman's done something, there's something not quite right--" He's not able to say anything further. With the sound of crumbling dirt and stone in his ears, the platform they're on begins to rise into the air, along with fifteen or sixteen others, and the sound of running water rings loud in Harry's ears as the base of the arena begins to fill.