Harry was furious.
No matter how many times he old his housemates that he had not been the one to put his name in the Goblet of Fire, no one believed him. Ron was being a right wanker, most of his house thought he was a liar, and other treated him like it was all some sort of big joke. He had thought, at first, that at least Hermione was going to stand by him. She had said that she knew he didn't put his name in the Goblet. He had thought that meant she would stay by his side…
He guessed he had overestimated his importance.
He knew that she and Ron were soulmates. It had been a big deal their first year when the two realized it. That didn't stop them from arguing. Even the year before, the two had argued over Hermione turning his broomstick into Professor McGonagall. They hadn't spoken for weeks, all because they hadn't agreed on the course of action Hermione had taken. It hadn't stopped them then, why should it stop them now?
It wasn't that Harry wanted his best friends to fight. He just…he thought that Hermione would at least stand up for him.
Instead, she avoided him. She didn't join in when Ron started in on blaming him and accusing him of wanting the attention or whatever it was his supposed 'best friend' was saying, but she also didn't argue against the redhead. She didn't sit with Harry at breakfast. She just…acted like none of it was happening.
And Harry was tired of it.
He had sat next to Neville at breakfast that morning but even the quiet Gryffindor had stuttered over his words and dropped his toast whenever Harry spoke to him. His eyes kept darting over to where Ron was sitting with Seamus and Dean, his face flushing as the three boys laughed. After a few minutes of this, Harry had decided to take pity on Neville and he had placed his own food in a napkin and made his way out of the Great Hall.
He just wanted to be away from it all. Away from the whispers, accusations, and snickers. Away from the glares. He wanted someone to actually listen to him, to believe what he was saying.
Not for the first time, Harry wished he had met his soulmate when he began attending Hogwarts.
It had been both amazing and depressing to see classmates find the person they were supposed to be with. Ron and Hermione. Seamus and Dean. Anthony and Susan. There were more, Harry knew there were, but he had begun to block it out. He would admit that he was jealous. To have someone with him, someone that would actually know and prove that Harry was telling the truth…someone that was guaranteed to be with him. It was an amazing thought. Harry had hoped that he would meet his soulmate in the following years but, truthfully, he didn't have much to go on. Although his soulmates skin was probably littered with lies that Harry told on a daily basis, Harry's own skin was almost constantly blank. Oh, there were a few times words would appear, simple things like "I'm fine" or "No, everything is okay", which then made Harry worry because, clearly his soulmate was not fine and everything wasn't okay. But he had no idea who the person was and Harry had no way of helping him. He hoped that, one day, he would be able to do so.
But, at the moment, it was impossible.
Harry walked toward the Great Lake and paused for a moment when he saw a figure sitting against his favorite tree. He squinted, trying to make out who it was, but all he could see was light brown hair and green.
Slytherin.
Great.
With a sigh, Harry moved to sit a bit further down from the Slytherin student. The boy seemed absorbed in his book and Harry didn't think he had even looked toward him, so it should be fine. Most of the Slytherin's seemed to leave him alone…well, unless Malfoy was around. Harry stared out at the lake, finally relaxing for the first time in what felt like weeks. He was just so tired of it all. He had to put up with the looks and comments throughout the entire day and things weren't any better in the dorms. The Common Room would go silent when Harry walked in, until someone yelled out how he did it. Harry would just ignore them all and go up to his room, only to hear them all talking about him when he stepped onto the staircase. It's like they thought if he was out of sight, he could not longer hear him. Then the other boys would slowly wander up the stairs and into their room. Neville would always give him a hesitant smile and then hurry toward his bed. Ron would glare. Seamus and Dean would badger him with questions of how he tricked the Goblet. None of it would stop until they finally went to sleep.
And Harry would be plagued by sleepless nights. Even if he did manage to fall asleep, he was getting frequent nightmares involving Voldemort.
"Stupid," Harry muttered, grabbing a stick and throwing it in the water. "I didn't put my name in that stupid Goblet! Why doesn't anyone believe me? I don't even want the attention. I was happy that I wouldn't have to be involved. They know that!" Harry continued to grumble to himself, throwing sticks and stones into the lake. He supposed he should be thankful that the squid wasn't close by – he probably wouldn't be too happy about Harry throwing things at him.
The loud closing of a book broke Harry from his angry mutterings. Shoulders tensing, Harry glanced over to where the Slytherin boy was sitting. He had forgotten that he wasn't alone and was embarrassed that he had most likely heard Harry throwing a tantrum like a child. The other boy was leaning against the tree, the book in his lap as he stared a Harry with hazel eyes. Harry flushed.
Yes, he had definitely heard him.
The boy looked vaguely familiar, with his sharp cheekbones, hazel eyes, and shagging brown hair. Harry supposed he had probably seen the boy around Hogwarts – maybe he sat near Malfoy at the Slytherin table. The boy's head tilted slightly as he stared back into Harry's eyes. Harry stared back, daring the other boy to make a comment. He was sure he would get some sort of condescending remark about him trying to fool everyone around him into thinking he was innocent… but the boy just let out a deep sigh and stood, wiping the dirt off of his robes.
"I believe you."
Harry blinked, unable to understand the comment for a moment. When he was finally able to put the words together in his mind, his mouth dropped open. "You…what?"
The boy met his eyes once more. "I believe you didn't put your name in the goblet." He looked away from Harry and glanced at the school before speaking again. "That doesn't change the fact that you now have to compete. Do your best not to get yourself killed, Potter." He turned and began walking toward Hogwarts. "You should probably get to class."
The boy soon enough disappeared and Harry was left wondering how the one person to believe him was a Slytherin he didn't even know the name of.
