Dragons are extremely hard to slay

HP, First task,

“‘Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate . . .’.” Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (p. 136). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.

And with that and the books he had read that summer before heading off for the Weasley’s, he knew the answer.
He just let Hermione blather at him as he wrote out a missive and copied it several times with a spell. Yelling at him loud enough to get them banned from the library for the rest of the term for using Dobby to give his notes to the class professors for Monday. Each stating he would be absent as he got ready for the first task the next day.

He already had a classroom set up where he could do what he needed. So that would be fine.
And watched as Hermione just flounced off in a tiff, heading the opposite way as he went to the kitchens to get enough for the rest of the day and into the next.

On his way back up to the rooms he planned to use, Dobby popped in to tell him the messages had been delivered. And Harry told him to get over to Diggory and let him know about the dragons so the match would be fair. Then meet him in their room with the clothes he planned to wear the next day.

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He had spent the rest of the day and the morning of the next in meditation with his core. Strengthening it for the one spell he would be doing that day.
If it failed, he would be dead, so, it didn’t matter anyway.

As he came out of it, Dobby had a washbasin for him to use and listened as he gave what might be his last orders to his faithful friend.

Getting dressed in his father’s quidditch uniform of old. His mother’s favorite neckerchief is around his head. And his father’s old glasses replacing his with Dobby having recharmed the prescription.
He had a corsage of Lillies on his left breast, covering over the crest of Gryffindor. And his wand on his arm in his mum’s old holster.

When he entered the Great Hall Snape left immediately, and McGonagall tripped over air with tears coming down her cheeks as she came up to him.
Flitwick gave him a goblin salute and Dumbledore just blinked; his twinkle gone from his eyes.

Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now. . ..
You have to get ready for your first task.”
“Good luck, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “You’ll be fine!”
“Yeah,” said Harry in a voice that was most unlike his own. He left the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall. She didn’t seem herself either; in fact, she looked nearly as anxious as Hermione. As she walked him down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, she put her hand on his shoulder.
“Now, don’t panic,” she said, “just keep a cool head. . . .
We’ve got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand. . . .
The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you. . . .
Are you all right?
” Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (p. 141). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.

He patted her hand in a comforting manner as she led him to the champions tent and left him there with the others.
Cedric was pacing back and forth. Delacour was seated but white as a ghost and Krum was surlier than usual.
He just sat in another area away from them and set to going back to centering himself.

Bagman came in with a large purple silk bag and — “from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different — er — varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too . . . ah, yes . . . your task is to collect the golden egg!” Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (p. 141). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.

Fleur went first, a Welsh Green with a number two around its neck. Krum drew the Chinese Fireball with the number three. And Cedric the Swedish Snort-Snout with the number one.
Harry reached enough for show, the Hungarian and the number four. Dropping it back into the bag and dusting off his hands as though he had rubbed them in dirt.
Mighty poor spell work there to make sure we each got the prechosen dragons Bagman. How much did your bets run to cheat that?”
The cameraman with Rita snapped the guilty look on the man’s face, then she gleefully cackled out of tent with her next story.

Bagman coughed into his hand and was so red and purple Harry thought he was going to have a stroke from that. “You all have number you are going to appear by and the dragon you will face. I have to announce everything, so, I’ll leave you to it.
Death Eater lover?”
Bagman stopped in his tracks. “The Weasley twins want payments due. I wasn’t going to interfere, but you forced my hand with this stunt. You pay them with actual money and not the fake stuff you tried before, or my Barrister will have you before the actual courts and not the goblin courts. Even if it means dragging you from the announcer’s platform. Got it?”
He shakily nodded and left.

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Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass; Krum had finished — it would be Harry’s turn any moment. Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (p. 143). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.

The whistle blew and Harry calmly walked out to boos and little applause. But many catcalls of wanting his parents so he could cry about them.
Gee, thanks Rita.

And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (p. 143). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.

He clasped his hands together; forefingers pointed at the dragon as though aiming. Drew in the magic around him as if through a funnel. Powered it through and down his arms. His hands. His pointer fingers. And calmly said the words to the hardest banishment spell available to a Master Charmsman – Not done in ritual format – Evanesco. Aimed right at the dragon’s snout and head. And causing the cleanest cut and cauterization before blood began to geyser out from the headless dragon as it flopped dead onto the ground.
Killed instantly by a one-man banishment charm done by a fourteen-year-old who hadn’t even taken his OWLs yet.

Of course, he was given full points and the lead by the scared judges. And massive calming potions had to be made, and dreamless sleep potions made for the masses who had come for the bread and circuses. They hadn’t expected to be covered in fountains of dragon blood.

And the Prophet, of course, had no problem renouncing the earlier writings of the now fired Rita about The-Great-Boy-Who-Lived (to forgive their blunder…. Please.).
They even gave up an edition to him for his own use.
The front pages were dedicated to the Heirs and Heiresses at the school who were members of families who were or claimed alliances to the Potter’s since at least the last two wars if not before. And who had worn Malfoy’s buttons of their own free will and happily around him. Thus, breaking the covenant of their alliances. All debts owed them from the Potters were now paid in full, so there would be nothing between them to be called upon in need. All contracts canceled for the actions of those at the school to Heir Potter. And finally, all debts owed to Potters with compounded interest of 100% yearly from the time the debt was incurred were now called in for breach of contract on their part.
The middle pages of the paper were the same, but for all other Heir families that owed debts to the family.
And the last pages of the paper were a listing of all the merchants who owed debts to the Potter family of any kind including back rent, and whose children had worn Malfoy’s buttons willingly and gleefully. Those debts were now called in for breach of contract.
Including Malfoy’s and most of the “Imperioused”.

At the bottom of the “Blacklist” as it came to be called, was a notice from Heir Potter: “Never call bad attention to the one you owe debts to. It’s like calling the attention of the Gods to you. It never, ever, ends well. And if the thought that my death would have or will end this? Think again. I have already chosen my own Heir and had my will set up within a day of my name being selected. And this set up by the end of the day the buttons came out. Nothing would have, or will, change but your money will go out of the country instead.”

Draco didn’t live to see the sunset that day. And no one said a thing about it.

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