Disclaimer: all recognisable material belongs to J.K. Rowling


Dark figures loomed over him. Firelight flickered between them, just enough to illuminate their faces; while he could almost clearly see his professors, the headmaster and Cedric, the other people's faces were indistinct. The mix of accents and voices seemed to echo around the room.

"Liar, liar, LIAR!"

Harry's eyes snapped open with a sharp intake of breath. After a few shaky breaths he was able to shake off the panic, the dream fading quickly from his mind. He peeked through his curtains, finding the room unexpectedly light and empty. Harry wondered if it was by design or just coincidence; he was hardly ever the last one in the room in the morning thanks to the years of early morning chores at the Dursleys'.

After dragging himself through a shower, he entered the common room and was promptly greeted with a round of applause from a smattering of his housemates. The now familiar forms of the Creevey brothers were already calling to him as he looked the other way for the clearest path to the exit. He made it to the portrait in one piece but misjudged the hole and practically body slammed the person on the other side.

"Harry?" Hermione (who had impressively kept upright), "are you alright?"

After an embarrassed nod, Harry sniffed and looked around.

"I brought you some toast, want to go for a walk?" Hermione held up something white that Harry assumed was her offering.

"Good idea," he smiled, taking the stack of toast (the white thing turned out to be a napkin) and biting into a slice.

They went downstairs, crossed the Entrance Hall quickly without looking at the Great Hall, and were soon striding across the lawn towards the lake. The hulking black mass on the lake only reminded Harry of the Triwizard Tournament and dimmed his mood further.

"Durmstrang's submarine is pretty cool, huh, I didn't think they had stuff like that in the magical world," he tried to turn Hermione's attention away from the fact that he was so abnormally focused on the ground.

"Harry," his friend began slowly. "That's a ship, a big enchanted ship."

He stumbled when he looked out at the apparent boat moored on the black lake; it was merely a gigantic dark shape breaking up the morning sky to him; it was hard to believe any ship could just emerge from the water like it had just like a muggle submarine. He knew how fast Hermione's mind worked though and quickly launched into the story of the events after his name was pulled from the Goblet of Fire, hoping to distract her. She accepted his story without question, instead focusing on Moody's suspicions (perhaps it would have been more accurate to say thinly-veiled accusations) and wondering aloud the culprit. This, however, managed to drag his nightmare to the forefront of his mind and he hurriedly interrupted Hermione.

"Have you seen Ron?"

Hermione hesitated.

"Erm… yes, he was at breakfast," she said.

"Does he still think I entered myself?"

"Well… no, I don't think so…not really," it was probably the most unsure he'd ever heard Hermione speak.

"What's that supposed to mean, not really?"

"Oh, Harry, isn't it obvious?" Hermione said despairingly. "He's jealous!"

"Jealous?" he said incredulously. "Jealous of what? He wants to g-g-ge – to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?"

He had started spiralling into a panic; get himself killed. He couldn't bring himself to admit it out loud.

"Look," said Hermione patiently (perhaps she had missed his slip or the quickening of his breathing). "It's always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your fault," she added quickly, mistaking his panic for anger, "I know you don't ask for it... but - well - you know, Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous - he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many…"

"Great," said Harry breathily. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him he's welcome to it… have people gawping at me everywhere I go…"

"I'm not telling him anything," Hermione said shortly. "Tell him yourself- Harry!"

Harry jerked, trying to right himself after tripping on an animal's burrow but only succeeded in causing a painful tug on his ankle. He rolled down the gentle bank of the black lake, stopping just short of the water on rough pebbles. He went to breathe but couldn't seem to draw in any air. Harry felt himself trembling but ignored the stinging grazes in favour of making himself draw breath. He recognised the situation and closed his eyes, relaxing his body at the same time.

When he opened his eyes Hermione's face blocked everything else out. She backed away and he sat up a bit, wincing at the raw skin on his hands. He wondered what kind of expression she wore; was she concerned? Was she laughing at him? Was she angry that he was so incompetent that he couldn't even navigate a lawn?

"Can't even go for a walk without getting injured, can I. Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or- "

"That's not funny," Hermione's voice quivered. "That's not funny at all. Harry, I've been thinking -you know what we've got to do, don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"

"Yeah, give Ron a good kick up the- "

"Write to Sirius. You've got to tell him what's happened. He asked you to keep him posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts… it's almost like he expected something like this to happen. I brought some parchment and a quill out with me- "

"Come off it," said Harry, panicking at the thought of writing in front of Hermione; in front of anyone. "He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He'll probably come busting right into the castle if I tell him someone's entered me for the Triwizard Tournament- "

"He'd want you to tell him," said Hermione sternly. "He's going to find out anyway- "

"How?"

"Harry, this isn't going to be kept quiet," said Hermione, very seriously. "This Tournament's famous, and you're famous, I'll be really surprised if there isn't anything in the Daily Prophet about you competing… you're already in half the books about You-Know-Who, you know… and Sirius would rather hear it from you, I know he would."

Harry finally struggled to his feet, "Fine but there's no way I can write." He held up his hands (he hoped they looked as bad they felt). "Could you write it for me?"

Hermione sighed and turned back to the castle, "Fine, let's go."


Despite the uncomfortable bravado from the majority of Gryffindor house, the hostility of the rest of the school was painfully reminiscent of second year when everyone thought he was setting a monster on muggleborns. Slytherin's attitude was, of course, not surprising in the least and the Hufflepuffs seemed to feel very hard done by (rarely were the badgers given the chance to shine so publicly, many felt Harry had entered himself to steal the true champion's glory). He wasn't very familiar with Ravenclaw (they kept mostly to themselves) but, if he was to believe Hermione, they sat squarely in Hufflepuff's corner.

It was in one double potions that he beginning to crack; already a somewhat sore subject considering the professor combined with the dim lighting of the classroom, Harry was beginning to lose his patience. The bright red spots glowing brightly in the corridor erased anything else from Harry's vision. He recognised the chatter of Slytherins but of course it was Malfoy who separated from the pack.

"Like them, Potter?" he said loudly, as he and Hermione approached. "And this isn't all they do – look!"

Malfoy's covered the light on his chest for a moment and removed it; it was now a bright green. The rest of the Slytherins followed suit, howling with laughter as they changed their lights to green as well. Harry was only further confused, Hermione seemed to understand what was happening however.

"Oh, very funny," she said sarcastically over the shrieks of Pansy Parkinson, "really witty."

"Want one, Granger?" said Malfoy, his hand was silhouetted against his light, holding out an identical green glow. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see, don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."

Harry decided he liked these little lights that helped guide his wand. The dozen green lights behind Malfoy seemed to scramble backwards as one when they saw Harry pull his wand.

"Harry!" Hermione said warningly

"Go on then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly. "Moody's not here to look after you now – do it, if you've got the guts."

For a moment, there was silence. Harry's eyes were trained on Malfoy's little beacon. They both acted at the same time.

"Furnunculus!" Harry yelled.

"Densaugeo!" screamed Malfoy.

Jets of light shot out, missing both their targets. Harry's hit someone behind Malfoy and the Densaugeo flew over his shoulder to his Hermione. He heard her whimpering as Ron called out to her.

He turned but quickly lost any idea of what Malfoy's spell had done; no one wore the lights on this side of the corridor but from the whimpering Harry gathered his friend wasn't doing very well.

"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice.

The Slytherins clamoured to give their explanations to Snape; he paused a moment, "Explain."

"Potter attacked me, sir- "Snape had (as Harry correctly guessed) gone to Malfoy first.

"We attacked each other at the same time!" he tried to correct him forcefully, whirling around.

"- and he hit Goyle, look- "

Snape stood between Harry and the Slytherins, probably examining Goyle.

"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" said Ron. "Look!"

It didn't take long for Snape to come to his conclusion, "I see no difference."

Harry had no clue what Malfoy's spell had done but Hermione had clearly been under some kind of duress, even to him. It was lucky, perhaps, that after Hermione had run from the scene that Ron had started yelling at the same time as him. Their shouts melted into one another, bouncing around the corridor and making them unintelligible. Snape seemed to understand perfectly well though.

"Let's see," he said silkily. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now, get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."

He stormed to the back of the dungeons beside Ron, equally angry and confused. Once he sat down, however, he found himself alone at a table with someone flashing a green light in his direction. He considered the fiasco that had just occurred; Hermione had seemed angry about something before Malfoy had started slinging slurs around…

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs."