Disclaimer :: All things Harry Potter are owned by JK Rowling, and it would be quite an insult to her if I were to claim them as my own wouldn't it? Here we go!

To End in Serenity

Written by MattSilver

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Rated because of coarse language, teenage drinking, violence, references to sex, sarcastic humour and slight out of character situations and personalities. You have been warned.

General Notes :: Harry, Ron and Hermione are referred to as the Golden Trio, or just the Trio. Note the capital 'T' when I refer to them. Get used to seeing that.

- Several lines and phrases from the actual books are used occasionally, mostly from the third, fourth and fifth books.

- The backstory of the war is based around some events of HBP and DH, but only basic plot things like Horcruxes and Dumbledore's death are mentioned.

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Chapter 2 of 6 :: Best Laid Plans

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"You're covered in blood Harry," Hermione remarked, pointing to Harry's T-shirt. The shirt was plain white with black lettering: 'But you're breathing deeper than I am sir.'

The Trio were in Lovegood Getaway, escaping the Burrow for an hour or so to go 'swimming'. Actually, Harry was visiting his Irish friend and receiving the money he earned by betting on the World Cup's outcome.

"He tried to get out of the deal," Harry told her, dropping the sack of money he was holding. He would send it off to Gringotts later. "Found Sirius yet?"

Ron nodded. "He's in the British Virgin Islands. Quite the Apparation trip."

"We've nothing better to do," Harry reminded him. "Let's rock." The Trio Apparated off, reappearing on a sandy beach. Once again, Padfoot had his back to the Trio, and was licking himself.

"Dammit Sirius!" Harry called. The Animagus quickly turned back into a man. "Can't you just stop it sometimes!"

"Harry!" Sirius snapped. "Nice to see you," he added a bit more pleasantly. "Ron, Hermione."

"Sirius," they said simultaneously. Harry dropped the basket of food he had Dobby obtain and sat down on the sand.

"Nice place," Ron said, waving a hand at the small island all around them. No dwellings had been built, but there was a nice stretch of beach, a great sparkling ocean, and wild tropical birds making excessive noise up in the trees.

Sirius laughed heartily. "It's very heavily warded. I think Dad wanted to bring the family here, but even he didn't want to see dear old Mum in a swimsuit. That and I would've fed Regulus to one of those birds. Wait, how did you get here?"

Harry started the story. "Well, Hermione tracked you down, and -"

"- We owled our friend Parvarti. Dear old Parv was nice enough to offer us a Floo-"

"- And we escaped my parents, went to visit dear old Parv and her best friend Lavender. Great girls, both of them. They had a small summer home out here-"

"- Like Hermione said, we Flooed to it, and then we just flew here. Simple really."

Sirius looked them over. "Okay then. How are things back in England?"

Harry gestured to the food basket. Inside were also some clean robes and some money. "Eat. Then we talk."

Sirius greedily chomped down on some chicken, while Hermione explained current events.

She just finished describing the World Cup, and got to the aftermath. "Rita Skeeter had a field day. Berating the Ministry for letting those people die, bad security measures and all that. Then she ripped into the fact three Death Eaters were killed, and two captured, including Lucius Malfoy."

"Oh yeah, two days later, Malfoy and Goyle are back on the streets. And I think the dead ones - Selwyn, Crabbe and Flint, were ripped into a bit too," Harry added. He and Hermione had argued for ten minutes about what to do with Rita Skeeter. Harry wanted her taken care of before the Triwizard started, but Hermione convinced him to let her take of it. He was fully expecting Hermione to come to Hogwarts with a beetle in a jar.

"Not as much as Fudge was. That Skeeter bitch really doesn't like him," Ron finished, munching on some of Sirius' food.

Sirius let out a short bark-like laugh. "I know why. Back when me and James were Auror Trainees, one of our missions was to arrest Skeeter. She illegally transfigured herself in front of Muggles, and we brought her in. Fudge was with us - he was in the DMLE at the time - and he went pink when he saw her. He was shit scared. James bet twenty Galleons with Remus that Fudge and Skeeter had 'met' before if you catch my drift..."

The Trio burst out laughing. Harry got the first joke in, with: "Really? Fudge and Skeeter? I always thought Fudge's type was Umbridge..."

Sirius laughed appreciatively. "I think Fudge is just a lonely man. And a total fucking moron." His face darkened.

"Isn't he just?" Harry interjected, derailing any outbursts. He wasn't lapping up Fudge's decisions as a Minister any more than Sirius was, but he didn't want his godfather to go on a killing spree. "Anyway, you gotta hear about what Fred and George are up to..."

Two hours later, the Trio were walking back up to the Burrow.

"Well, that was fun," Harry said. Indeed, the two lifelong confidants of Harry Potter had never seen him so happy since the war ended. When they entered the Burrow, Harry's happy face dropped. Sitting at the kitchen table was Albus Dumbledore.

"Harry!" he said happily, standing up. "Good summer I hope?"

"Peachy," Harry replied frostily. Dumbledore just smiled.

"Excellent. Where were you, Ronald and Miss Granger off to just now?" Oh ho, Mrs Weasley must have informed Dumbledore that his Boy-Who-Lived ran away for three hours.

"Swimming. We went for a walk afterwards." Dumbledore just kept smiling.

"And why is your shirt covered in blood Harry? And why are Ronald's shorts covered in sand? Must of been some swimming trip."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Sir? The blood is just part of the shirt design. And there is sand at the beach. Are you just here for tea or are you going to interrogate me further?"

"Of course, how about a walk Harry my boy," said Dumbledore. He guided the disgruntled teen out to the Weasley orchard. "Now Harry..."

"Sir?"

"Why didn't you owl me or your friends about your family Harry?" Dumbledore sounded sad, but Harry could see past it. He knew the old man was a little more than just unhappy.

"Sir... I didn't think it was a big deal. The Dursleys have been on holiday and left me behind before. All the times they've been on holiday actually." Harry added that last line as a metaphorical slap to Dumbledore. He was not disappointed at the Headmaster's eyebrow raising.

"Of course," he said. "Did you go anywhere Harry? Did you leave the house?"

Harry squirmed a bit, just for show. "Sir? I went to Diagon Alley one day. I took the Knight Bus. I just needed to get some books and study up a little. I told you about Trelawney's prophecy remember? I need to be prepared..."

"You cannot do magic during the summer Harry."

"No shit," Harry whispered. Dumbledore caught it, but didn't comment. "Sorry sir, I didn't think what I did during summer was such a big deal. I haven't done any magic since the World Cup, and that was just a Lighting Charm."

Dumbledore plastered a smile on his dial. "I am sorry Harry. I was wondering what you could of done home alone for three weeks. I was concerned for your safety." What a load of shit. Dumbledore was concerned about his weapon than Harry himself. It sounded a little harsh, but Harry didn't quite think the man ever justified his actions enough to earn Harry's full respect or admiration.

"Of course sir. Sorry for worrying you," said Harry. He was internally wondering how he never turned to the Dark Side in the past. Seriously, Tom Riddle did it, and he didn't have that much manipulation in his life.

Dumbledore left a few moments later, and Harry rolled his eyes at the spot the Headmaster was last in. It wasn't that reassuring that Dumbledore was suspicious of him, but he could handle the old man. Hopefully, other people wouldn't rule him off as a child after this year.

Hopefully.

The next day, Harry decided he needed a break. "I'm going to Serenity Valley for a bit." He informed Ron. "Tell everyone else I'm... sleeping or something. Figure something out."

With that, Harry Apparated to the outskirts of the sleepy little town. It was mid-morning, nearly lunchtime, so Harry went to the local pub for a bite to eat. Maybe with the use of a Compulsion Charm, he could grab a drink.

Unfortunately, he heard someone call out his name.

"Harry Potter?" the person asked. He didn't need to turn around to ascertain that it was a female, and in his age group. He whirled around and faced one of his classmates.

"Oh," he said stupidly, trying to place her name. "Hello. Didn't think I'd find a pretty witch like you all the way out here." The 'pretty witch' was definitely in his year, but finding the name was difficult. She was probably a Ravenclaw - he never interacted with them much. She was a little shorter than him, with dark brown hair and a long fringe, nearly covering her dark blue eyes.

Harry mentally berated himself for not knowing her name. And hitting on a 14-year-old. Luckily for him, she just laughed nervously.

"Aren't you a little young to go into a pub?" she asked. Harry was indeed facing the Happy Welshman Pub, ten steps away from the door.

"That's what Compulsion Charms are for my dear," he told her. "And I need a drink. Perhaps you want to join me?"

"But..." she protested. "You can't do magic in the holidays." Her tone went accusatory. "Wait! You can't do magic in the summer! How can you do it?"

"Magic," Harry said simply. "Watch this." Checking there were no Muggles nearby, he changed the colour of her top from white to green. "Ta-da."

"You didn't do anything... oh wait a second," she looked down at her top. "Smooth."

"I'll ask again, want to grab a drink? Or shall I vanish your top to show off more of magic tricks?"

"All right," she acquiesced, smiling a little. "I want to be there when the Ministry arrests you for using magic on Muggles."

"Ten Galleons says I won't be arrested," he bet her. She laughed, and the two walked off into the pub.

"Fine. I, Aimee Isabella Moon, will give Harold James Potter ten Galleons if he is not arrested by the Ministry." While the girl giggled through her oath, Harry blurted out:

"So your name is Aimee!" he cried. He then winced. "That was so not the right thing to say..."

Aimee laughed. "I can't wait until you get arrested." God, Harry hoped she was just joking.

"Are you sure you're not in Slytherin?" he asked her shiftily. She started to snicker.

"I am in Slytherin!" she cackled. Harry had the sudden urge to hit himself for being outfoxed by her.

"I'm raising the bet to twenty Galleons," mumbled Harry.

As a matter of fact, Harry did not get arrested. He failed to inform his classmate that his wand was untraceable, and he had long ago perfected a way to put as little magical power in spells, not alerting people of magic in Muggle neighbourhoods. She was shocked, but drank and ate with him happily (He was paying after all). The two spent the afternoon chatting away.

Harry found out all kinds of things about the Hogwarts hierarchy he never knew.

"The Gryffindors all worship you," Aimee said, sipping from her glass. "The Ravenclaws all want to study you, the Hufflepuffs are wary of you and the Slytherins... reaction is mixed."

"Draco Malfoy wants me," Harry muttered. "Why else would he follow me around for three years?"

Aimee giggled lightly. "Did you know that Draco Malfoy is engaged to Pansy Parkinson?"

Harry had snickered into his drink for the rest of the day, and Aimee told him about being one of three half-blood Slytherins in her year (Along with Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini). Harry in turn told her the truths to several rumours over the years about him.

No, he wasn't getting advanced duelling lessons from Dumbledore. No, he never used Love Potion on first year boys. No, he doesn't murder roosters (His only lie).

By the time the sun had set, Harry was daring Aimee into drinking actual alcohol (Muggle of course). He could handle it a little better, having years of experience and Occlumency; the latter actually helped block the inhibitions alcohol put you under. The nightly pub visitors started pouring in, and Harry cast several Notice-Me-Not's, before taking the half-inebriated Aimee home.

The walk/stumble to her family's house was a hilarious time for both. He would laugh at her inexperience in being drunk, and she would laugh after she vomited on his shoes. Eventually, he found her house (She didn't give the best directions), and led her up the driveway.

"I'll owl you sometime. Or we'll catch up at Hogwarts," Aimee promised, her most sober words yet. Harry smiled at her.

"We'll get drunk again at Hogwarts! Brilliant idea."

She laughed. "Thanks for this Harry. I needed to relax a bit... I owe you thirty-four Galleons by the way." The bet's price had increased over the afternoon. With that, Aimee walked into her home.

Harry reflected that he shouldn't Apparate home yet, and started the long walk down the driveway. However, he was stopped when a portly man with neat sandy brown hair appeared at the front door of Aimee's house.

"You!" he cried, pointing at Harry. "What did you do to my daughter?"

Harry made sure his scar was hidden. He didn't want an angry father on his case. "Err... we had fun?" Again, not the right thing to say.

"Who are you?" Mr Moon asked, eyebrows narrowing. "Are you from around here?"

"Yes!" Harry cried, appearing to be severely threatened. "My name is... Barry... Barry Trotter!" With that, he ran down the street, and Apparated upon turning the corner. Haha, no fathers were going to chase him down!

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed, as Harry vomited on his bed up in Ron's room. "Are you drunk?"

"I'm not sober," Harry pointed out. He cleaned the vomit, and sat on his bed. "How are things here?"

"Mum thinks you're sick," said Ron, eyebrows still raised. "What the hell did you do?"

Harry chuckled. "I may have run into one of our classmates and got her pissed. It was actually pretty fun. Not many people can claim that out-drank a Slytherin."

"A Slytherin classmate? Harry, Harry, Harry... the Hufflepuffs are the heavy drinkers mate. Haven't you heard the rumours?" Rumours of great Hufflepuff parties had indeed reached Harry's ears. He had never been to one though.

"Oh. But I still had fun."

"Who was it? Daphne Greengrass? Tracey Davis? Pansy?" Ron questioned.

"Yes, Ron. I found the Pureblood Chief Bitch Pansy Parkinson and got her drunk. It was Aimee Moon actually." Harry's brain was starting to swim. The disadvantage to using Occlumency to block off alcohol related problems was that it would be bad when the shields came down. Case in point - right now.

"Aimee Moon..." Ron mused. "I never heard of her." By the time Ron was finished searching his brain banks for a face to name, Harry was out cold.

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"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"But what about Fudge? I mean, he has to go if Sirius can be cleared..."

"You heard me Hermione, we can't risk a Ministry disaster. With such a disaster, the Triwizard won't go ahead, and if that doesn't happen..."

"We're boned," Ron finished. He, Harry and Hermione were about to depart for King's Cross Station. A familiar argument between the three of them was how to proceed from their current positions. What our time-travellers didn't want to happen was a big enough ripple in the lake. The ripple would become so big that they couldn't predict future events, and if that was to happen.

"We'd be so boned," Ron repeated.

"Too true," Harry agreed. He double checked his trunk. "Let's get going. Lots to do and all that."

"And you have to meet your Aimee again," Ron said teasingly. He and Harry levitated their trunks out of Ron's bedroom window and guided them down to the taxi just beyond the Burrow's front gate. Only a degree of self control and Hermione's presence stopped them from having an air battle.

Harry for his part just smiled. "She owes me thirty-four Galleons."

Hermione shook her head. "Did you send Sirius that letter?"

Harry nodded. She was referring to Harry's note about arrangements for the school year. Sirius was going to get weekly food drops via Dobby, all paid for by Harry's Galleons. Harry had advised that he stay on his family's island, until he could drop hints about placing Sirius at the Lovegood Getaway.

"How did you get your trunks down to the car?" Ginny asked, intercepting the Trio halfway down the stairs. She was hauling her own heavy trunk behind her.

"Threw 'em," Ron replied. Charlie approached the quartet at the bottom of stairs.

"Harry, Ron, why did one of the taxi drivers just tell me he saw two trunks fly towards them?" he asked, eyebrows raised. Hermione giggled.

"They levitated them." Charlie blinked slowly. Then he rounded on the boys.

"WHAT?" he snapped. The Trio walked off and Ginny followed them. Charlie was just watching their retreating backs, working out whether Hermione was joking or not. He would never figure it out.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George, Mrs Weasley, Charlie and Bill reached the station five minutes before the train was scheduled to leave. After securing a compartment, the Trio went back out to the platform to say goodbye.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny goodbye.

"Why?" Fred asked.

"You'll see," Charlie winked. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it... it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it', after all."

"Yeah I sort of wish I was back at Hogwarts this year," Bill said wistfully.

"Why?" George demanded.

"You're going to have an interesting year," Bill said, eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it..."

"Yeah," Ron interjected. "I know I wouldn't want to miss a Triwizard Tournament event."

"What was that?" Bill and Charlie asked simultaneously. Fred and George were looking curious as well.

"Yeah, we met Bagman at the Quidditch World Cup," Harry told them. "He wouldn't shut up about it. I can't wait, I've read about them you know."

"But people die in Triwizard's all the time!" Hermione protested. "But, it's totally worth the money right Ron?"

"Definitely," he agreed. Behind them, the train whistle blew. Mrs Weasley started pushing them to the train. The Trio caught the final look of shock on Bill's face as they headed inside.

"See you Mrs Weasley!" Harry called. Ron waved at his family, and Hermione smiled shyly. "Sorry we won't be coming for Christmas, but see you soon."

"Why wouldn't you be coming at Christmas?" Fred asked suspiciously.

"Oh I don't know. Something exciting will be happening I bet."

The Trio retreated to their compartment, which was soon locked and warded.

"Hey Hermione," Ron said hesitantly. "Where did you go last night?"

Hermione smiled evilly, and produced a jar from her robes. "Picked up a pet." Inside the jar was a nice fat beetle, chewing on a leaf. "She's under a strong Confundus. She'll be released when the Tournament is over, simply forgetting she was in this jar for a year."

"Brilliant," Harry cackled. He tapped on the side of the jar. "Better that than dead, if you say so."

"I'm not a murderer yet Harry," Hermione scolded, placing the Unbreakable jar in her trunk.

"What about Hedwig?" Ron asked. "Do you think she'd eat a big fat juicy beetle like her?"

Hedwig the owl was currently taking a trip to the British Virgin Islands, but she would've clicked her beak indignantly at the thought of eating a foul Skeeter beetle.

Harry produced a deck of cards, and started to shuffle them. It's not like they had anything better to do... then a light screeching noise was heard in the compartment.

"Ward's tripped," Hermione said. She pulled her wand out and analysed the ward. "One person, so no Malfoy. I think."

Harry was already opening the door. "Aimee!" he said in surprise. "Hi."

"Harry," she greeted. "Weasley, Granger," she added, waving to the other two.

"So," Harry started, grinning. "You owe me thirty-four Galleons Aimee..."

Aimee laughed. "For what you did to my dad, I'll give you forty." Harry joined her in laughter, before inviting into the compartment for a spell.

"What did you do Harry?" Hermione asked wearily. Deep down, she was predicting prison sentences. "Avada Kedavra Roulette?"

"Kreacher used to love that game," Ron sniffed, wiping a fake tear from his eye. Legally, Kreacher's death was a tragic accident.

"No," Aimee said, looking at Harry's friends oddly. She shrugged. "Dad spent two days hunting down the mysterious Barry Trotter. I piled on some decent lies."

Harry recovered from his unmanly giggling. "Like?"

"That Barry was a kitten killing teen who grew up with rich parents. He had been arrested twelve times, gotten away with murder by paying the cops off and was planning to kill me after having his wicked way with me. Stuff like that."

Harry's eyes widened. "Slytherins! They just can't stop!"

"I'm sorry. Barry Trotter?" Hermione asked.

Ron laughed. "Oh I get it! You ran into Mr Moon after taking his daughter home! Then, in your drunken brilliance, may have used the alias Barry Trotter. You are the king."

Aimee flashed a grin to Harry. "And I had a headache all day. Thanks a lot Harry."

"You still owe me money," Harry protested. Inwardly, he was quite pleased with himself. Aimee patted him on the shoulder.

"I'm sure we can figure something out," she said saucily. Harry saw the telltale gleam in her eye. It was a Slytherin thing.

"And I was so sure you were a nice girl," Harry pouted. Aimee matched his pout and leaned into his ear.

"At least I'm not a kitten killing murdering rapist, Barry."

"I have never killed a kitten or raped anyone. And I was never named Barry," Harry said jokingly.

"I knew it!" Aimee squealed. "You're the one who was responsible for Quirrell's death!"

"No," Harry laughed. "Hermione did that. I just hid the evidence!" The compartment cracked up. Harry's laugh was half-nervous - was there another Slytherin rumour concerning the events in the third floor corridor?

"Well I better head off," Aimee said, looking at her watch. "We have four hours until the Hogwarts Express arrives at Hogsmeade, and the whole school has to know you killed Quirrell. Ciao!" She left the compartment.

"Was she serious? Or is she off her kilter?" Ron asked. Harry giggled again.

"I don't know. She seemed almost normal until I befriended her. Hmm... makes you think..."

"What we would have been like if you weren't our friend?" Hermione finished. "We would be a lot less stressed..."

When the train pulled into Hogsmeade hours later, Harry, Ron and Hermione were relieved to find out that Aimee hadn't spread any rumours. She winked at Harry before jumping into a Thestral-drawn carriage though.

The Trio, Luna and Neville shared a carriage, chatting politely about the Quidditch World Cup and other events. Luna's father had apparently found out about the Triwizard Tournament, or as she called it, the Footfluff Exhibition.

"Daddy explained the need for human life source. The Exhibition would deliberately end in death so as to help along the Footfluff Flamingos. But when he explained that the Flamingos could only survive on human life source, even I thought he was reaching," she ranted. "There were studies in the 40's that clearly proved that they needed the life source to reproduce, not survive. They could simply hibernate themselves in the colder areas of Denmark until the Exhibition came around again. Watch yourselves."

By the time the Trio and Neville separated from the third year girl, Harry had already given her five Galleons for a Quibbler subscription.

After a lengthy Sorting and a filling feast, Dumbledore stood up to make some announcements. The Triwizard was brought up, and Harry was glad that the event was still going on.

..::..--.--..::..

The days leading up to Halloween were roundly uneventful. Classes resumed, talk about the Triwizard reigned supreme, and Harry found himself hanging around with Aimee Moon every now and then. She was fun to be around, and Harry enjoyed teasing her about the fact she was a soft drinker.

In classes, Moody's were undoubtedly the hardest to sit through. While a decent teacher, the Trio had a slight problem with the fact that he was an imposter, and an insane Death Eater to boot. To add insult to injury, Crouch Jr/Moody had taught the class the Unforgivables with less effort than the real Moody would've done. Crouch Jr must've been a very good Occlumens, but the look of satisfaction on his face while Cruciating a spider was obvious. However, Crouch Jr was left untouched, because he was still needed.

Snape was still a king git, and Harry was just ignoring him instead of fighting back. No outright duels occurred, mostly because the Trio were unsure if they could erase Snape's memory of the event. Just for kicks, Aimee had paired with Harry for one lesson. The look of somewhat shock on Snape's face was quite satisfying.

Also, Harry and Ron were enjoying Divination this time around. With use of several useful spells, Trelawney was under the impression that they were always in her classes, while in fact the two boys usually slept in or went flying.

However, it was soon time for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to come and visit Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament aka Footfluff Exhibition.

So, on Friday evening, the Trio found themselves standing out on the school grounds, waiting for the other two schools to arrive. Sure enough, Madam Maxime's giant horse carriage and Karkaroff's creepy ship arrived.

"Hey Hermione look!" Ron exclaimed. "It's Krum!"

Hermione scowled at him. "Do you want to lose you ability to reproduce?"

Ron grinned cheekily at her. Harry chuckled. "Yeah, the Yule Ball will be fun this year won't it?"

"Oh sure," Ron agreed. "Are you still going to raffle yourself off?"

Harry grimaced. Once Fred and George were informed about the Yule Ball by the Trio, they immediately decided that a chance to take Harry to the Ball would make a lot of money. And thus, they were going to sell him off if couldn't find a date.

"Haha," Harry retorted. "Are you wearing those maroon robes?" Ron pinked a little. Mrs Weasley had bought Ron the same hideously lacy maroon robes she did back in the old timeline, but this time, Ron was ordering new ones.

"I'm sending the owl tomorrow," he mentioned. As Igor Karkaroff was chatting with Dumbledore, Ron's eyes narrowed. "Are we going to kill Karkaroff?" The Trio did not notice a frightened Dennis Creevey overhearing the conversation.

"Perhaps," Harry said. Karkaroff was a coward and not generally liked within the Trio. That and the rumours of what he does with the Durmstrang boys...

"Won't he just be killed in his cowardice?" Hermione pleaded. Again, she was trying to take the moral high ground.

"You sat there and watched us kill Kreacher, and you killed Macnair! Don't get all high and mighty with us!" Harry laughed at Ron's exclamation.

"Macnair tripped," Hermione pouted. Again, the Trio didn't notice Dennis back away slowly and escape the murderous Golden Trio.

"Hey pale Englishwizards!" called Aimee, approaching them. "How are things?"

"Fine," they chorused. Harry had a further point though:

"You're English too."

Aimee giggled. "Half-French on dad's side. But, I'm not regretting the choice to come here instead of Beauxbatons. They look like a bunch of snobs."

The Trio nodded. "Ten Galleons that they'll complain about the weather," Harry offered. Aimee grinned.

"No no Trotter. I am not betting with you." Unbeknownst to Ron and Hermione, Harry and Aimee had repeated their summer drink-off in the kitchens. Harry won of course, and now the half-French Slytherin owed him a further twenty-three Galleons, twelve Sickles and four Knuts.

"I'm still paying off the rest of what I owe you..." she mumbled.

The Trio and Aimee made their way into the Great Hall, where the foreign schools were settling in. And because Harry loves drama, he turned to Aimee.

"Want to sit with us?" he asked. She smiled winningly.

"Drama queen. Sure thing."

So, for the first time in two decades, a Slytherin sat on the Gryffindor Table for a feast. The last time had been in the 70's, when the Marauders tied Severus Snape to the table and spent the night pleasantly talking about Gryffindor things. Rumour has it he broke his nose to escape, causing the unnatural hook shape it was currently in.

"Uhh... Harry?" Neville squeaked, looking at the Slytherin nervously. "Why is she here?"

"Neville it's okay," Harry reassured. "Just don't make any sudden moves and she won't see you." Neville nodded meekly. He picked up his fork, and Aimee deliberately looked at him predatorily. Neville paled.

"I see you," she mouthed.

After the feast and the Goblet of Fire announcement, Harry bumped into Igor Karkaroff as they were leaving the Great Hall.

"Hello Igor!" Harry said cheerily, patting the man on the shoulder. Igor turned an unhealthy shade of purple. "How's being a Headmaster treating you?"

"Listen here you little-" Karkaroff was cut off by Moody, who Silenced him. Next to turning Malfoy into a ferret, it was probably the coolest thing Crouch Jr ever did.

"Go on lad," Moody said, gesturing to the stairs. Harry moved along, all the Gryffindors in his year following. Aimee had departed early, citing that she needed to go get the taste of French food out of her mouth by vomiting heartily.

"Do you know him?" Seamus asked. "I mean, you patted him on the shoulder..."

"Me and Igor go way back!" Harry joked. "He was actually a supporter of Voldemort back in the day you know. Spread it around."

That night, Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves watching the Goblet of Fire. As usual, they were playing cards, invisible.

"When do you think he's coming?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know. If he doesn't do it, we'll have to take care of it ourselves won't we? Hermione?"

The resident genius shrugged. "I think I can Confund it into taking your name Harry. It's a little Dark, but do-able."

Ron snorted, but then they all heard a dull thud noise. Moody clunked into the Hall, looking around suspiciously. Harry, Ron and Hermione had used a spell to hide themselves magically and physically, a handy one that Moody himself once taught them. As such, Moody's magical eye wouldn't spot them.

Moody's Polyjuice wore off, and Crouch Jr appeared in his place. Pocketing Moody's eye and wooden leg, Crouch approached the Goblet, holding a slip of paper. The Trio watched as he spent ten minutes waving his wand around the Goblet, before placing the slip of paper with Harry's name on it into the fire.

His mission done, Crouch did something the Trio wouldn't of predicted. He walked out of the big double doors and out onto the Hogwarts grounds, turning invisible. Harry and Ron followed, leaving Hermione to check over the Goblet.

Using a magical sight spell, Harry and Ron spotted Crouch over at the tree line of the Forbidden Forest. The Death Eater pulled out a small square mirror.

Harry and Ron shared a look. It was a communication mirror.

"Peter Pettigrew," he whispered. The two teens kept their distance, and no silencing wards were thrown up. Apparently, Crouch was really arrogant.

"Are you alone Barty?" came the voice of Wormtail. Oh yeah, he died painfully back in the old timeline. But this time, he would just be imprisoned. Then the dying painfully if he escapes.

"Yes Wormtail," Crouch snapped. "I wish to talk to our Lord."

"Our Lord will speak to you when he is done. He is talking to your father now. We've been talking for three days now."

Harry and Ron shared another glance. Crouch Sr was put under Imperius this early? That didn't seem right.

"What?" Crouch hissed. "I thought we were going to wait until Potter's name came out of the Goblet?"

Wormtail laughed. "That's what Memory Charms are for Barty. Crouch Sr is a goldmine of information about the tasks, some information that you haven't gotten us yet."

"I planted the book on that stupid Longbottom brat!"

"Yes, but there are two other tasks Barty. Crouch has been useful. Also, I found something out about my old friend Sirius that Crouch can be useful for."

"Black? What do you want with that riffraff?" Harry moved a little closer to Crouch, straining to hear.

"Revenge Barty," Wormtail simpered. "He wants me dead, but he can't do that if he's arrested now can he? A week ago, one of my contacts intercepted an owl headed for the British Virgin Islands. A letter, written by Harry Potter."

Harry gaped. Points to Wormtail.

"Potter?"

"Yes, Barty. The letter's contents were hidden though. Some kind of password I do not know, but I recognised the writing on the envelope. It was addressed to Padfoot in that pathetic scrawl of Potter's. And it was Potter's owl after all." Harry was hitting himself internally. Using Hedwig was a big mistake it seemed, but he was happy Wormtail didn't figure out the password (Which was a quote written on one of Harry's shirts).

"So?"

They couldn't see it, but Harry and Ron both imagined Wormtail was rolling his eyes. "Barty Barty... read the papers tomorrow. You will see."

"Tell our Lord that the name is in the Goblet," Crouch reminded. Wormtail probably nodded.

"Don't worry about your father Barty. He won't remember a thing tomorrow, except... well... read the Prophet. And Barty, talk in the mirror in your disguise you moron. The castle has eyes, and so does the Forest. Remember that."

"You little rat!" Crouch shrieked. Harry and Ron were already sprinting back to the castle, before Crouch decide to do a thorough sweep of the area. The boys met up with Hermione and made their way up to the seventh floor. On the way, Ron explained the situation to Hermione, while Harry seethed.

"Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!" Harry yelled, upon entering the Common Room. "They have Sirius don't they? I told him to hang around in the BVI, and now he's being caught because of it!"

"Calm down," Hermione soothed. "You couldn't of known..."

"Yes I fucking could of," Harry snapped. "Last time he returned here because of my scar acting up. This time we visit him and recommend he stay on that island. We didn't tell him about the Getaway..."

"Calm down, Harry! Don't wake up the whole tower."

"It's sick Ron. It's fucking sick that Wormtail is so... ugh! Betraying Dad and Mum, framing Sirius and leaving Remus to suffer alive? And I had to use Hedwig because I was fucking arrogant!"

"We all were Harry!" Hermione cried. "We were thinking it was fine. We didn't count on Wormtail being out and about. We didn't know."

"We'll have to break into Azkaban then!" Harry ranted. "We get Sirius back before he can be given the Kiss."

"Harry!"

"Shut up Harry! We don't know if Wormtail has it right. He could've been just hinting at a future plan. We don't the whole truth!"

Harry sunk into an armchair. "What else could it be Ron? Wormtail knows where Sirius is, and Voldemort could've easily had Crouch under Imperius or Memory Charms. You know? Crouch could've went and captured Sirius, and not remembered who told him where to go. Fuck."

"You need to relax Harry," Hermione berated. "It can't be that bad."

"I need a drink," Harry said, letting out a sigh. He was about to call Dobby, but Hermione acted first.

"Sorry Harry. Stupefy!"

Harry slumped to the ground. Ron turned to Hermione questioningly.

She answered, "He's overreacting. He'll forgive us when he calms down..."

"I don't think he wants to lose Sirius again," Ron said hollowly. "Losing him once... It screwed him up Hermione."

"I know," Hermione said, giving Ron a hug. "Can you levitate him to bed?"

Ron nodded, taking his unconscious friend back to bed.

..::..--.--..::..

Sirius Black escapes capture once more! Twelve Ministry workers murdered!

Reporter Mary Jacobson: Yesterday evening, an owl sent by Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Cooperation, and former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, tipped off the authorities to the location of escaped convinct and mass murderer Sirius Black.

At 9pm last night, a team of Aurors and Hit-Wizards found Black at his family owned island located in the British Virgin Islands (For more information on the Black Family, turn to page 5). Accompanying the Auror team was the tipster Crouch, who was there to witness Black's daring escape.

"Seven Aurors and five Hitwizards died.." he said, his usually calm demeanour slipping. "That bastard killed twelve young wizards and witches to escape justice. It was sick, the way he laughed as he did it." Crouch and three Aurors, John Dawlish, Micheal Mueller and Sebastian Yaxley, were the only survivors.

Black is also rumoured to be connected to the attack on the Quidditch World Cup, which resulted in several more deaths of Ministry workers and civilians. For more information and a history of murderer Sirius Black, turn to page 3.

"Shit!" Harry mouthed. Upon receiving the paper, Hermione had Silenced the still angry Harry.

"This is much worse than being arrested," Ron noted. The Trio left the Great Hall behind and headed up to the Room of Requirement for some privacy.

"We have to find him," Harry begged the other two. "We know he's innocent this time too. Crouch and Dawlish were Imperius/Confunding victims, and Mueller and Yaxley are Death Eaters. We know that."

Hermione shook her head sadly. "But the Wizarding world won't hear of that Harry. Remember, this is a Fudge Ministry."

"Dammit," Harry muttered. "Well that Ministry's gone. Sirius is now the most wanted man alive, and we need to get someone into power who can help."

"Harry, I thought we were going to wait..."

"No waiting Hermione. The Triwizard won't stop after tonight. Binding magical contracts, in case you forgot," Harry seethed. He started pacing around the Room of Requirement. "No, Fudge and his people are done!"

"Plan?" Ron asked. He was all for a Ministry coup.

"Amelia Bones," Harry said simply. "Law and order type. Fair woman. We set her up to exonerate Sirius."

"Fudge's people will block it. We don't know the loyals in that department Harry."

"Tonks. Loyal enough right? She is Sirius' cousin," said Harry. In order to satisfy his need to pace, the Room had shifted into a much larger room with well worn rugs on the floor.

Hermione shook her head. "Look, I want Sirius free as much as anyone, but we need to think things through. It's a Saturday, we have all day."

So with that, the Trio put together a Ministry overthrow, centred around the idea of freeing Sirius, but nothing else really. They didn't want the Ministry to catch wind of the Triwizard plot and screw up Voldemort's resurrection. They didn't want Crouch or Wormtail captured... and with Veritaserum and Legilimency, Amelia Bones can declare Sirius innocent without Wormtail's head on a pike.

The first part of the plan was at lunchtime. Harry, under glamour, waltzed into the Ministry under the name 'Harry Harrison'. He went to the Auror Department, and found Auror Tonks.

"I'm Auror Tonks, what did you need?" the woman herself asked. Harry smiled pleasantly. Subtlety was the key.

"Tonks..." Harry started, throwing up privacy wards around her cubicle. "What would you say if I was Harry Potter in disguise and was here to help exonerate Sirius Black?"

Tonks gaped at him. "I would need a heavy drink to go with that claim."

"Excellent!" Harry said happily. "Let's go."

So, at the Leaky Cauldron, the two sat in a warded booth and chatted for an hour and a half. Harry had brought along a Pensieve he bought during the summer, to help things along. Tonks was on a second bottle of Firewhisky by the end of the story.

"But what last night?" she asked. "You said he was innocent of everything he ever did... why are there 7 dead Aurors in my department?"

Harry smiled sadly. "I think you were duped. Crouch is under Imperius. I don't know the full details, but I was thinking it over. My friend Ron's brother Percy sent Ron a letter, mentioning Crouch had been sick for three days right? And Percy told me that Crouch is never sick. And when my owl Hedwig returned this morning, her wing was damaged and she was clutching the letter I sent. I was careless I admit, and I think Wormtail spotted my owl out on those islands..."

"And he would know if Sirius owned any islands out there."

"Or placed a tracking charm and let Hedwig continue on her way. I don't know, but if Crouch was under Wormtail's Imperius, he could've tipped off your Ministry."

"And he came along to frame Sirius!" Tonks said excitedly. "Dawlish, Yaxley and Mueller were in on it? They helped kill the other 12 on the team... those bastards."

Harry nodded. "I know. 12 of the Ministry's finest, killed for a chance to get revenge on Sirius."

"But why did they resort to killing those Aurors?" Tonks wondered. "You said Wormtail would be fine with just having Sirius arrested..."

"I think Sirius heard them coming. The island was heavily warded Tonks. Crouch and the arresting team tripped a ward, and Sirius escaped with some materials I gave to him." Harry had bought an Invisibility Cloak and a Knockturn Alley bought wand. Sirius could've easily hidden magically with that wand.

"This is heavy," she muttered, lying back in the booth.

"Welcome to my life," Harry said simply.

Tonks nodded. The idea that Harry was drinking didn't hit her yet either. "Mum will be happy when he's found innocent Harry... she was messed up when he was arrested."

"I know," Harry said sadly. "We could use her help too. For the overall plan."

"You have an overall plan?" Tonks raised an eyebrow. "Very Slytherin."

Harry laughed. "Do you want to go see Sirius? I've got a place we can stash him."

"You do? How would a 14-year-old know such a place?" said Tonks curiously.

Harry tipped the side of his nose. "Magic. Let's go, let me just activate the tracking charm." Harry wasn't an idiot, he placed all kinds of his specially made tracking charms on Sirius' person and possessions. The charm would be invented six years in the future, and so no one else could pick up on it.

Tonks Side-Apparated Harry to the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean, where Sirius currently was, gliding across the water on a broomstick.

"Padfoot!" Harry called. Sirius turned and spotted his godson and some mysterious female in the water. He grinned.

"Hey Harry. How bad is it?" Sirius was ignoring Tonks for a minute, still trying to figure out who she was.

"Chudley Cannons bad," Harry assessed. "Another frame-up. 12 dead, and they want your head."

Sirius whistled low. "Go me."

"Wotcher Sirius!" Tonks called, reminding the boys of her presence. Sirius stared hard, trying to remember her. A minute passed before:

"Dora!" he cried. "What in seven holy hells are you doing here?" In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, the trio had a pleasant conversation about current events. Sirius agreed to come with Harry to Lovegood Getaway. Ron was Secret-Keeper, and he had given Harry some notes to tell the other two where to find the Getaway.

Night was falling as Sirius was getting settled in. As Harry was about to leave, Padfoot asked the burning question.

"Harry? How do you know so much? You know how to Apparate, I know it. You know about politics and how to overthrow Fudge's Ministry for Merlin's sake! How?"

"Sirius," Harry started. He noticed Tonks looking at him oddly too. She was just there for the night, catching up with Sirius. "I'll explain one day. To both of you. You'll find out, and trust me, it's a good story that I hope to repeat four times at the most."

Harry Apparated back to Hogsmeade, taking the Honeydukes passageway up to the castle. The Halloween Feast was due to start in fifteen minutes, so Harry had to rush up to the Room of Requirement, where Ron and Hermione were practising spells.

"Harry! How did it go?" He explained the day's events to his friends, and the Trio headed down to the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast. After a nice feast, it was time for the Champions' great reveal:

"The champion for Durmstrang," Dumbledore read, voice loud and clear, "will be Viktor Krum!" The hall burst into applause and cheering, and Krum slouched off to the small chamber off to the side of the Great Hall.

A second piece of parchment flew out of the Goblet of Fire. Dumbledore caught it deftly and read it out:

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" More applause, and gawking from the male population. Harry and Ron, both trained into knowing Fleur as Bill's wife, didn't gawk, just clapped politely.

Next up was the Hogwarts champion: "The Hogwarts champion..." Oh, the suspense. "...is Cedric Diggory!"

Cedric waved to the school as he waltzed from the end of the Hufflepuff table and towards the chamber. Harry, Ron and Hermione cheered for him along with the 'Puffs.

"So, are we visiting their party tonight?" Ron asked.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said happily. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real-"

The Goblet regurgitated another slip of parchment, and Harry winked to his friends. Now came the maelstrom.

Dumbledore paused, before reading out the name: "Harry Potter!"

No applause. No cheering. Just an angry buzzing of pissed off students. It was like the first time his name came out, only a lot funnier.

Ron laughed out loud, and most of the Gryffindor Table looked at him like he was insane. Hermione looked indifferent, and Harry tried to appear shocked.

Up on the Head Table, McGonagall, Bagman and Karkaroff were whispering with Dumbledore. After the short conference of the four, Dumbledore called out again.

"Harry Potter! Up here, if you please!"

Hermione and Ron gave Harry reassuring looks, and the Fourth Champion made his way to the front of the Great Hall, a little wary of the murderous glances he was getting.

Harry made his way into the small chamber with a confident stride, ignoring Dumbledore. Once inside the chamber, he found the other three champions.

"What is it?" Fleur asked. "Do zey wwant us back in ze Hall?"

"Oh yeah. Do I look like a messenger boy to you?" Harry snapped. Fleur reeled a little, and followed up with a glare. It was actually kind of hot. Veela anger and all that.

Bagman entered the room, smiling widely. Harry resisted the urge to sell him out to the goblins a few months earlier. "Extraordinary! Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen and lady... may I introduce you to the fourth Triwizard champion?"

Krum straightened up, surveying Harry. Cedric was looking confused, and Fleur laughed, and said, "Oh vairy funny joke Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated. Harry snorted. The whole Triwizard was a joke. It was would only be slightly more of a joke if Luna's theories on Footfluff Flamingoes was correct.

"I told you I wasn't a messenger boy," Harry reminded the French girl. Krum and Cedric just looked bewildered.

Fleur blinked. "There 'as been a meestake!" she cried. "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

"Right here!" Harry growled. "And this is a binding magical contract Delacour. I have no choice."

Fleur rounded on him. "Oh, so was zat part of your leetle plan?"

Harry rolled his eyes, and didn't comment. Technically, as in, 'put me under Veritaserum' technically, it was part of the plan this time around.

"Well... it's still amazing," Bagman said. Fleur glared at him.

"You are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!" Harry had had enough, and he whipped his wand out, taking aim. Before anyone could stop him, he had already hit the French girl with a high powered Stinging Hex.

"Whoops," he bit out. "I guess I just accidentally hit you with a Stinging Hex, because I'm an undisciplined little boy!" Fleur recovered from her Hex, and made a move to reach for her own wand. Harry just fleetingly thought if Bill would need to get a new wife this time around. Maybe he could set him up with Tonks...

Just then, Dumbledore, Crouch (Who looked tired as hell), Karkaroff, Maxime, McGonagall and Snape entered the room. Harry pocketed his wand, trying to appear non-threatening.

Fleur made a move to protest about Harry again, but she caught the look in the Boy-Who-Lived's eyes. She cowered properly.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" Maxime asked.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," Karkaroff said icily. He and Maxime went on a little bit about breaking the rules and all that, and Harry didn't do anything until Snape spoke.

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said the King Grease Bat. Harry's wand was back in hand before anyone could blink, and Snape was Silenced. He glared hatefully at Harry, trying to undo it. Oh yeah, Harry's Silencing spell was sort of maybe Dark-ish, and Snape wouldn't talk for the rest of the evening.

"Thank you Severus," Dumbledore said firmly, not noticing that Snape was unable to talk. As the Potions Master struggled, Dumbledore looked directly at Harry, probing his mind. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?"

Harry surprised the old man by slamming Occlumency shields in place. "Nope."

Dumbledore blinked slowly. "Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" Again, he attacked Harry's shields.

"Nooooo..." Harry dragged out the 'o', as if talking to a small child.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Maxime. Snape was still trying to break Harry's spell. Harry still had his wand in hand, pointed discreetly at Snape.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that."

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line!"

Dumbledore had broken eye contact with Harry, deep in thought.

"Harry," Dumbledore said eventually. "Are you sure you didn't enter your name in the Goblet?"

"I did not enter my name in the Goblet," Harry affirmed. Dumbledore was flying blind, what with no access to Harry's mind. Turns out Dumbledore still had faith in Harry's word, as he didn't pursue further.

Bagman and Crouch told the Headmasters and Headmistress that it was a binding legal contract, no matter how Harry's name got in the Goblet. Karkaroff and Maxime got a little pissy, but thanks to Moody, they didn't get many shots in.

"Someone put Potter's name in that Goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out," Moody told the crowd. Harry just admired the man's acting skills for a moment. "Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die in this Tournament. Why else would they put him into it?"

"But zat is if Potter is not lying!" Maxime snapped. She was getting increasingly frustrated. Harry couldn't wait to hear her reaction when she found out about him hexing Fleur.

Moody and Karkaroff bickered for a bit. Harry thought that Moody wanted Karkaroff dead as much as he did, but for different reasons. A secret fantasy of Harry's was for Crouch Jr, Karkaroff and Snape to get in a three-way duel, and then Harry finishes off all three. What a fun day that would be.

After Moody insinuated that Karkaroff was a Dark Wizard, Dumbledore stepped in.

"Alastor!" he said warningly. Harry stared hard at the man for a second, remembering that Moody had been an imposter under the Headmaster's nose for a whole year. Kind of stupid considering Dumbledore and Moody were old friends. "How this situation arose, we do not know."

The room at large just listened. Harry himself was getting tired. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen, and will have to compete in the Tourament."

"But Dumbly-dorr -"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be happy to hear it."

Dumbledore waited, but Maxime and Karkaroff did not speak up. They just glared unpleasantly, matching Snape's one. He was still trying to break free of Harry's hex.

The champions were dismissed a few minutes later, after hearing about the First Task and some general information. Harry and Cedric left together, and Harry decided to have a chat with Cedric.

"Cedric?" he said. The Hufflepuff turned to face him. "First off, I'm sorry. I mean, I don't want to take your glory and all that..."

"I know that," Cedric reassured. "You don't like attention, that's true."

"Yeah about that. I might need some help from you..."

"How?" Cedric questioned.

"I didn't put my name in the Goblet. We both know that. However, how many people in your House are going to believe me? I mean, the 'Puffs looked majorly pissed back in the Great Hall," Harry explained. Cedric's eyes brightened.

"Oh right!" he exclaimed. "I didn't think about that. So, should I tell them about what Professor Moody theorised?"

"Yes please. I'd come with you to the Hufflepuff Common Room and tell them myself, but I have my own House to shut up."

"All right then. See you around Harry."

Cedric wandered of to his Common Room, while Harry thought about how to handle his own House. Gryffindors were a slightly rash bunch, and they would some light threatening. Probably.

"That was sweet of you Harry," said Aimee, appearing out of nowhere. Harry looked around - he spotted the tapestry she was hiding behind. For once, Aimee was looking serious. Kind of, anyway. "I thought you would've threatened him."

Harry sighed. "Hi Aimee. Want to grab a drink?" Drinking with Aimee sure beat telling Gryffindor House to go fuck themselves.

She nodded. "You look like you need it."

"Europeans Aimee! They're all insane or very stupid." The two were trekking down to the kitchens. Thanks to Dobby, Harry had an in with most of the House Elves, who didn't mind him and Aimee using the kitchens. Dobby was the one who usually bought the alcohol.

Aimee giggled. "Sucks doesn't it? Someone's trying to kill you or something." She was very perceptive, as Harry found out. That's how she had guessed Harry had something to do with Quirrell's death. Oh yeah, Harry had explained about Quirrell being possessed by Voldemort during one of their meeting sessions.

"Kill me sounds about right," Harry said glumly. "But, it happens yearly, so I'm not so surprised."

Aimee had also heard some basic stories about Harry's second and third years. Not enough to warrant any magical oaths, but enough to get a general idea about how the Boy-Who-Lived operated and why. She gathered Harry's drinking was just for repression purposes, which was a very astute.

The two took their usual seats in the kitchen, and Harry called Dobby.

"Would Harry Potter and his Slytherin mistress like the Firewhisky?" the elf asked. Harry and Aimee simultaneously nodded.

"So, what's the reaction in the Slytherin Common Room?" Harry asked, taking a swig from his bottle. "Angry, jealous, mad, impressed or happy?"

"Well," Aimee started. "Malfoy is jealous, but he's hiding it well. The older years are a little indignant, they like Diggory. And... there are a few who think you're playing the entire school. But those people are the ones who have thought you are actually a mastermind underneath it all. They don't count."

"Nutters," Harry mumbled. He cleared his throat. "The Sorting Hat wanted me in Slytherin actually. But I'm not that much of a mastermind."

"Really?" Eyebrows raised. Harry would always get that reaction. "Too bad you weren't."

"No it wasn't. Before you, I was very sure all the Slytherins in my year were pricks. I was half right, what with Malfoy, Nott and Pansy."

"Aww," she pouted. "It would have been so nice to talk to someone smart in the common room."

"So sorry," Harry said dryly. "What about you? I never really got a scope of how you interact with your house mates... apart form sarcastic commentary."

Aimee didn't reply right away, looking serious again. Actually, Harry could've sworn she looked kind of sad. "Well," she hesitated. Harry guessed she didn't want him to get an insight on her life. "I don't really get along with the Slytherins too much, but that's just how the House works. Slytherins form connections, not friendships. About halfway thought last year I realised that most of them are all shallow pricks."

Harry snorted. "I'll drink to that."

"So I don't really get along with them. I'm good friends with several of the Ravenclaws, and working on some Hufflepuffian friends. And you, Ron and Hermione will do me for Gryffindor."

"Definitely. We are great people aren't we?"

Aimee laughed lightly. "Come on, I think you should get back to your common room. You know, before I owe you more money." Both cracked up a little, but Harry didn't return to his common room until two hours later.

The slightly inebriated Harry found himself waltzing into Gryffindor Tower easily, using Occlumency to block out any drunk inhibitions. When he arrived, the people still awake in the Tower just stared at him.

"Evening," Harry said, tipping an invisible hat. "Fun party? I was at the 'Puff party. Let me tell you, no one throws a party like the 'Puffs do!" Several people tittered, but most look pissed at Harry's joke.

"How did you do it?" Lee Jordan asked excitedly. "How did you put your name in the Goblet Harry? Age Potion?"

"I could tell you Lee, but I would have to kill you." The room collectively winced. Harry's wand was in hand already, just in case. "But I will advise that if you wish to cross an Age Line, you need fourteen roosters, two virgin witches and six pints of Unicorn blood. From there, you sacrifice the roosters and the witches, stir their blood into the Unicorns', and just wait for the Age Line to let you through."

Again, the room of people just stared at him.

"Or someone else can do it for you!" he snapped. Tough love never hurt anybody. "Come on you idiots, someone else put my name in without me doing it! I'll take Veritaserum to that! So fuck anyone who thinks I did it by myself, and fuck their mothers if they don't believe me when I say that someone put my name in the Goblet to kill me!"

Ron and Hermione, over in the corner of the room, gestured up the dormitory stairs.

"Enjoy your party," Harry said cheekily, moving the crowd apart by holding his wand threateningly in front of him. Once in his room, he gratefully collapsed onto his four-poster.

"So fuck anyone who thinks you did it by yourself, and fuck their mothers if they don't believe me?" Ron cackled. "You have a new T-shirt quote."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't care. Tomorrow is a new day folks, and I won't be here. Which one of you is coming with?"

"Ron is," Hermione said. "You're going to kill some people, and I prefer to hang back and tell the masses that you and Ron went flying over the Forbidden Forest as stress relief."

"Agreed then. Ron, are we going to have some fun tomorrow?"

Ron grinned evilly. "I always wanted to kill Umbridge. Never got a chance to last time." Of course, when entering the room, Hermione had carefully checked for any listening charms and set up wards. The Trio were not that stupid.

"I'm thinking of carving 'I must not tell lies' into her sternum," Harry muttered, getting sleepy. His Occlumency shields were down, and things were fuzzier than before.

Hermione shook her head. "Well, goodnight. Have fun tomorrow."

"We will," the boys chorused, as Hermione left. Ron went off to get ready for bed, while Harry fell asleep.

..::..--.--..::..

Meanwhile, Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office, sucking on a lemon drop. Things had gotten complicated when Harry's name came out of the Goblet. Extremely complicated.

While Albus decided that Moody's theory about someone wanting to kill Harry was very valid, he couldn't help but think that Harry was becoming a Tom Riddle clone. Ever since he had met Sirius, Harry had been more sarcastic and spiteful, especially towards the once-worshipped Headmaster. Albus had also noticed that Harry had taken to lying and deceiving him.

Then there were the acts of advanced magic. Harry suddenly becomes a Potions Master, just to antagonise Severus Snape? Harry's magic becomes effortless to perform in class? Producing a fully formed Patronus? These were all rather suspicious things in the mind of Albus Dumbledore. But, recent events were really starting to gnaw at him.

One, Harry could throw off the Imperius with no effort. Two, Harry had somehow learnt Occlumency and blocked Dumbledore himself from entry. And three, Harry had displayed savvy and been shrewd about the Triwizard Tournament, as if he was expecting it to happen. Had he entered himself in and was lying? Deep down, Dumbledore was worried for the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One of Trelawney's prophecy.

"Headmaster sir?" asked a squeaky voice. The major-domo House Elf, Leon, was standing before Dumbledore's desk. Albus simply plastered a smile on his face.

"Leon! How may I be of assistance?"

"Heamaster sir, we cannot get into the Hufflepuff Common Room to clean up sir! They is having an all-nighter party sir!" Leon squeaked. Dumbledore smiled somewhat condescendingly down at him.

"I'm sure those students will be sent to bed soon by Professor Sprout. Was there anything else Leon?"

Leon, being the Head Elf, didn't actually hang around the kitchens much. Instead, he was mostly locked in his tiny office, directing his elves and reporting to Dumbledore every now and then. However, he was in the kitchens tonight, inspecting his elves. He was there when two humans were, and he thought Dumbledore would want to know.

"Headmaster sir, there were students in our kitchens tonight sir, after you dismissed them from the feast sir. I was there inspecting the elves sir, and sir, I found two students in our kitchens. They was drinking sir. Firewhisky I think sir."

Dumbledore didn't really see why the elf didn't just report to McGonagall, but he continued to smile. "Who were they Leon? I will happily report them for smuggling alcohol into this school, if that is what you wish."

Leon nodded furiously. "Yes sir. They were fourth years, one Slytherin and one Gryffindor. The Gryffindor was Harry Potter sir!" Dumbledore internally slapped himself into attention.

"Would you please repeat that Leon?" he asked pleasantly. Harry Potter drinking in the kitchens with a Slytherin?

"Yes sir!" Leon squealed. "Aimee Moon and Harry Potter sir. They was their names sir."

Dumbledore stood up, and looked at the elf. "Thank you Leon, I'll take care of it from here." Leon bowed happily, and Apparated off. Albus went over to the fireplace and threw some Floo powder into it.

"Alastor Moody," he called. Moody was his second choice, behind Snape. But since Snape has been oddly quiet for the last few hours, Moody would have to do.

A few minutes later, Moody's head appeared in the fire. "Albus?"

"Can you come up here for a minute or two Alastor?"

"Sure thing," Moody grunted. He vaulted through the fire a minute later, wearing night clothes and not wearing his wooden leg. "What is it Albus?"

"Take a seat my friend. Would you like a lemon drop?" Albus and Moody took their seats, and Moody shook his head in reply.

"No Albus. What did you need?" A little bit more brisk than Moody usually was, but Dumbledore ignored that. It wasn't like Moody was an imposter or anything!

"Alastor, let me tell you some information that might be a little... daunting. I need a second opinion, a more vigilant one." So Albus explained his fears about Harry becoming Dark, citing recent examples. Moody's answer was brief.

"Don't do anything. You have theories Albus, but nothing concrete. Right now, you're grasping a little," he growled. "Let me watch the kid for a bit. See how he reacts to the Tournament. Maybe after the First Task we can see how he handles it. If it's too suspicious, we'll have to step in, correct?"

Albus nodded. He generally agreed, because having a confrontation with Harry is not what he wanted deep down. "Thank you for the advice Alastor. What shall I do about Miss Moon? She is a Slytherin, and her connection to the Death Eaters is worrying."

Moody snorted. "I'm a Slytherin too Albus. Or did you forget that? No, I say we leave her. The lad's obviously pining after her, and maybe that's why he's acting up. Leave it be Albus. Don't repeat your mistakes."

Albus bristled a little internally. He didn't do anything that couldn't be counted as part of the 'greater good'. That's what he believed anyway.

"Thank you Alastor. May we meet in a few days time and discuss how Harry has reacted to the Tournament?"

"Sure thing Albus." Moody hopped to the fireplace and Flooed out. Albus just sighed, leaning back in his chair and breathing deeply.

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To be continued in Chapter Three....

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