Alright, so this upload is more about the AN than the actual chapter as you can see. There's only about 800 words in this one and it doesn't really have much to do with the story, but I didn't want to upload a chapter solely dedicated to an AN.

First, a question for you guys; Would you rather have longer chapter with longer upload times, or shorter chapter with faster uploads?

Anyways, I make no promises that I will finish this story, though I will try. To that length, if I feel like I'm running out of steam on it in the future I will be keeping an out for somebody to take it over and keep writing. Also, work is getting pretty hectic; I'm out the door within five minutes of waking up and in bed as soon as I get home, so uploads are definitely going to be behind for a short while. Sorry about that, but such is life.

Another question for you - Judging from my writing in the first couple chapters and the drivel below, would you suggest a beta or should I keep it to myself? I'm new to writing fanfiction so your opinions mean a lot to me.

I appreciate the follows, favorites, and reviews as well. On that note there is one review that I would like to clear up.

Smutley Do-Wrong - I know what chagrin means, and I saw it as fitting in the situation because Snape couldn't stop Harry from leaving his class which, in my mind, be embarrassing. For the second part of your comment about how if he's so unhappy then why is he having a pillow-fight, are you telling me you've never had a happy moment even though you were depressed? or even just went along with it regardless? 'Nuff said. Valid review though, and I thank you for it.

Thanks for sticking with the story, and sorry for this upload. Just don't want people thinking I've already abandoned it.


For the first time in a very long time, the headmaster of Hogwarts felt every year his age. Keeping as many secrets as he did, especially life-altering secrets, was taking its toll on him. At this moment, the consequences of every decision he had made came to the front of his mind. His decisions had gotten a lot of people hurt, killed even, but nothing hurt his heart more than the case of Harry Potter. No matter what he did, Harry Potter was fated to have a painful life and even Albus Dumbledore couldn't change that. Every day for the last four years he had fought an internal debate with himself on whether he should tell Harry of what was to come, and every day he had to squash the urge to do so. 'Soon' he kept telling himself.

He had come close once already at the end of the last year; but then he realized that he had already knowingly subjected the young man to a painful and unfulfilling home life, and telling Harry what he had heard that night many years ago, sitting in a dingy room in a pub, would just add to the enormous strain he was already under. He just had to hope the boy-who-lived would continue to do so until age itself called him home. Before he could think that far ahead though, he had to hope that Harry Potter could make it through the next year. After all, the Tri-Wizard Tournament was cancelled for a reason, but he had faith. Harry had already done extraordinary things in his short life, and he would continue to do so because he had no other choice. The headmaster sighed and pushed those thoughts from his mind as he pulled a growing stack of papers in front of him.


For having just left a detention with Snape for hexing Malfoy, who had accosted Harry in the hallways after lunch and harassing him with a 'support Cedric Diggory' badge, he was strangely happy. He couldn't quite put his finger on why, but he suspected it had everything to do with Fleur Delacour. Her apology to him meant probably more than it should have. Previously, he had stewed for a long while after receiving an apology even if he did put on an agreeable expression. The difference here though, was that he could tell that the beautiful French witch was sincere in her apology. She explained to him that it wasn't meant as an insult, she was merely worried. Even the 'leetle boy' insult didn't seem quite so much like an insult when it was put into perspective. Everything he had done could be more attributed to luck than any sort of skill on his part. He always had help in some form or another, and his magical repertoire was insignificant.

Harry immediately made for the Gryffindor common room to change for a trip to Hogsmeade with Hermione, but as he entered the common room he spotted his snowy white owl Hedwig sitting on the windowsill, a letter in her talons. It was from Hagrid, asking Harry to meet him at his cabin around midnight; he snorted, remembering the last time he found himself in the same position was when he, Ron, and Hermione had delivered Norbert to the astronomy tower.


'Dragons!' He couldn't believe it. Courage in the face of the unknown was one thing, but making them face dragons with no warning was ridiculous. Its like the organizers wanted to add four more deaths to the tournaments already respectable body count. He'd made sure he told Cedric after Hagrid had shown him the enclosure in the forest, and if he hadn't seen Madam Maxime and Karkaroff in the forest as well, the looks Fleur and Krum were trading was enough to confirm that they also knew.

He pressed his palms to his eyes and tried to rub the sleep out of them; he was awake most of the night with too many thoughts flying through his head to even try to close his eyes long enough to fall asleep. He idly picked at his bacon, no longer feeling hungry as he pictured the gout of flame the dragons were spewing. He tried to not imagine himself caught in the blast and failed miserably. He felt the blood drain from his face and sighed, as he looked back up to the Ravenclaw table. Fleur gave Harry a worried look as his gaze crossed over her and he had to force himself to not stare at the blonde beauty. With a slight shake of his head to get this thoughts in order, he rose from his lonely place at the end of the Gryffindor table and sluggishly made his way towards the library. He was NOT going to do down without a fight; he owed that much to his parents.