A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all the support! I love reviews, as well as getting favorited and alerted! Also I'm sorry that it took so long to update, this chapter had me pausing and editing and rewritting! Also to answer Haunt of Twilight's question they'll get there eventually, I plan on having them dance at the ball at least. Whether they go as a date or not is a secret for now. Anyway, this next chapter has our favorite Bulgarian getting stalked once more, Harry exploding, and Malfoy being his usual self! *giggle* Remember I love answering your questions in the story so if there's anything you're wondering feel free to ask! Reviews or PMs are much loved.
Chapter 4: Why are you here?
The last day of the week, after class ended, I could be found hiding in the library pouring through a few texts trying to find the necessary material for one of Snape's blasted essays. The last few days I had avoided any conversation that delved into my past, that is, with everyone but Hermione. To my embarrassment, I'd broken down and told her exactly how the Dursley's treated me, which was then accompanied by both of us crying like we were little babies. Really, it had been quite astounding how long and hard we'd cried. Poor Neville had to keep pulling handkerchiefs out of nowhere to handle it all. However it did lead to one rant that both Neville and I had paled a bit at. It happened the second she asked a very serious question. Setting the text aside I stare out the window recalling her furrowed brow and soft voice.
"What did Dumbledore do about it?" She had asked. She looked so indignant, I think fondly picturing us at this same table. Our heads bent close together.
"Do about what?" I remember responding looking into her warm brown eyes after saying that, they'd swirled with confusion and aggravation.
"The neglect! Isn't what they did to you illegal in the Wizarding? What they're doing to you would have them in Muggle jail!" She had snapped back while throwing her hands up in exasperation. Neville had glanced around nervously at that, though the privacy and secrecy ward-slash-bubble thing had hidden us quite well, although the alcove was a bit off from the main part of the library.
"Nothing," I had replied. "He never checked up on me or allowed my request to stay anywhere else." The explosion after that was something that hadn't been seen since the World Wars. I wince in memory as I skim the potions text.
"EXCUSE ME?" She had screeched shrilly causing both Neville and I to wince. I swear she must have broken the record of loudest scream in the world at that, I think snorting in amusement over how she looked when she had nearly turned purple. "You told him that they mistreated you and he just told you to go back?" She had continued.
"Uh-huh, something about blood wards... For my safety and a way to be hidden from Voldemort," I had explained causing her eyes to narrow dangerously. I shivered at the memory of those irate slits.
"Well... It might be a good excuse, but I'm going to look into those so called blood wards, and blood magic then," she had declared before breaking the bubble to storm off to the library. Both Neville and I then decided to keep his own past a bit hidden. We didn't need her confronting his grandmother, that would be a can of worms best kept sealed, locked away in a box at the bottom of the sea.
Of course that didn't mean the others didn't try to subtly bring it up any damn time anyway. Just this morning Hermione had sent a stinging hex at Cedric for trying to get me to talk about my home life. Which probably just made them more suspicious. Sighing in exasperation at the thought I huddle in the same small alcove that the horrible conversation had gone by in. It was tucked away at the back of the library far out of sight, with a window that over looked the lake and was designed in such a way that it gave full view to the restricted aisle and a few of the upperclassmen bookcases, yet made it was difficult for anyone to find me or even know I was there unless they knew about the spot specifically.
Positive I wouldn't be disturbed, I'd hidden myself away there in search of some privacy and quiet. However, I didn't account for a fleeing Bulgarian who was just as surprised to see me hunkered down at the table as he stealthily slip around the bookcase hiding from a few seventh year girls. I watched in fascination as he muttered some charm and fought the urge to look away. Seated behind a stack of books I suppress a slight snicker when the small herd of girls ran by followed by a sharp, "If you cannot be quiet in this library get out!" from Madam Pince. The pattering of their scampering feet and the audible snap of the library door closing after them signaled the departure of Viktor's devoted sycophants. Enjoying the look of relief on his dark face I smile.
"Hiding from the fan base eh?" I say with a low chuckle. He jerks and I move the stack of texts out of the way so I am no longer hidden partially by his view. "Hullo Viktor, trying to find a place to sneak away to?"
"'Arry! Vat are you doing here?" He says in greeting moving towards me. "Studying?" He slips into the alcove glancing around to check that there's nobody near. I chuckle once more.
"Sit down, they won't approach you if you're with me. I'm the dastardly, villainous Potter again this year. They love you but won't come near if you're with me, they've taken to hating an avoiding me. Nobody but Hermione and Neville really talks to me anymore. However, 'Mione and Nev's off doing things while I have to struggle through this damn potions essay." I glare at it morosely, "I seriously think Snape is trying to kill us. Barely two months into the school year and he assigns us three feet of hell, plus I've already nearly been blown up twice. Damn Malfoy," I snap flipping through another text despairingly. He sits next to me, even farther into the alcove casting a few charms, which I guess are to further divert attention from this spot. He glances at me a flicker of recognition in his eyes at the name, shouldn't be that surprising though, the other teen had repeatedly tried to invite him over to the Slytherin table this past week.
"Draco Malfoy?" He asks surprised I nod glumly in silent response, "Vat does he haff to do vith dis?" A note of curiosity enters his eyes.
"The git tosses random ingredients into my cauldron at importune moments," I say with a sigh. "It doesn't help that the professor hates me either." I shut the book, giving up, and resist the urge to fling it at the bookshelf across from us. It's a good thing I love books and that Hermione has pretty much beat it into me to handle them with care.
"Vell... Is dere a vay for you to... How do you say it? Offer a oliff branch?" He says curiously. My eyes narrow.
"Are you saying I should over a treaty with the jerks?" I say scowling. He slumps in the chair crossing his arms with a frown.
"Is dat a bad idea?" He asks. I scrub my face with a groan.
"It'd be terribly difficult. I turned down Malfoy's friendship when he was acting like a prat, and Snape's done nothing but berate me these last four years. It has something to do with my parents making him an irritating bastard who is petty as four-year old denied sweets." I drop my head down and let it thunk onto the aged wood. "It wouldn't be a right nightmare dealing with either. In fact it would be hard as shit..."
"Hrrrngh." He grumble, "But... mabve it is worth it? Dat vould solve da problems no? Do you not have a saying that da best dings are da hardest fought?"
"The best things are those you fight for, or maybe you meant nothing easy in this world is worth having?" I mumble.
"Ja, dat sounds right. Both sound correct." He says with his rare small smile. I groan with resentment.
"I could try to strike up a compromise with Malfoy, we both could do without the fights, it'll interfere with getting ready for OWLs and our NEWTs. But Snape... I really have no clue as to what to do with that man." I say sitting back up.
"Vat does he like? Maybe some gift is needed to pave da vay?" He suggests picking up my essay and skimming it. "I dink you wrote down the wrong ingredient here..." His finger glides over something and he frowns in concentration.
"What?" I yelp before leaning over and glancing at the word he's pointing out. "Isn't that a necessary ingredient in any burn potion?" I drag a text over and flip it open and start skimming for the page I read that fact on.
"Yes... But in dis it vould conflict vith dat ingredient right?" He points out something else and I groan in exasperation. "Dere is also a problem vith da method of cutting you mentioned."
"Damn..." I sigh. "I can cook a full course meal for eight but I don't really grasp the different methods or how to do certain things. I've tried researching it but I haven't grasped it in the practical fashion yet."
"You can cook?" He says interested.
"Yeah..." I say distracted glancing at a few lines in my essay scratching at it rather helplessly. Swearing I see it blotch, ruining the whole essay, and groan in exasperation. "Damn quill!" I squeeze it a little too tightly and it snaps much to my annoyance. I swear even more.
"How do you know how to do dat?" He asks and I absently answer him.
"It's one of my chores my relatives assign me." Realizing what I just said I stiffen in embarrassment and annoyance. Damn, I just had to go and blab that didn't I? Fuming silently I shut the text book with a thud and start putting things away. Viktor watches me startled.
"Cho- Eh? 'Arry? Vere are you going?" He says rising with me as I scramble out and around the table. I rush over to Madam Pince, check out the books and scramble to the door and out. I hear his foot steps following me but I slip down a busy hallway and ignore his calls. I glance back and see him mobbed by his fan girls and his terse responses and attempts to get around them. Stumbling down the stairs I make a break for the second floor and my sanctuary. I needed to learn when to keep my mouth shut!
I didn't leave the chambers til it was time for dinner. I scrubbed my face tiredly. The ride up was tiring, but the tight tunnel taught me to fly even better and I didn't want to use one of the longer exits. Exiting the bathroom I head down the stairs to the dining hall almost immediately I run into Malfoy and his posse. Damn, then I remember Viktor's suggestion and decide to at least lay the ground work.
"Well if it isn't the Boy Wonder," he sneers. I just shake my head, remove my glasses and rub my eyes tiredly. I glance at him and look over the group. As per usual Malfoy's flanked by his 'muscle' Crabbe and Goyle, off a bit is Pansy Parkinson and Blaine Zabini quietly eying me. Theodore Nott is even further behind and just rolls his eyes and walks past us into the dinning hall ignoring us. He never enjoyed the confrontations and personally I envied his ability on more than one occasion when Ron had stupidly pulled me into the middle of one of his battles with Malfoy.
"Hello Malfoy," I say simply. Seeing Draco right now I'm pretty sure what Viktor suggested would never work. "What can I do for you? Besides dying in the tournament as you've taken to saying lately." Damn, I really couldn't hold my tongue. Really I just had to go and be a snarky bastard.
"Oh, you know me so well, Potter," he drawls his hair glinting in the candlelight. "However, I do admit I don't have anything else..."
"Fine, then I'll see you in class tomorrow," I say simply moving to leave him behind. He shifts to stand in front of me.
"Ah ah ah! I just thought of something!" He says, "How ever did you do it?"
"Do what?" I say tiredly.
"Get your name." He replies. I sigh.
"Really Draco? That's what you're asking me? That's what you want to know? Wouldn't a better question be 'How is it possible for anyone to consider me capable of doing it?'" I respond glancing around disdainfully. Our encounter has drawn the attention of many people and a small crowd has started forming a circle around us.
"Oh come off it, you're the Boy Wonder, I'm sure you convinced someone to put your name in for you," he snickers. I shake my head.
"I can promise you this Malfoy, I never wanted this. I absolutely despise it actually. A lot of the people think it's so amazing to be in this damn thing... But who wants to die? Who would voluntarily go to their death for a bit of glory and some cash." I demand throwing my hands up.
"But it's a thousand galleons," someone chimes in.
"Oh so you're life is worth that much?" I snap turning to stare at the person who spoke up. I sneer, it was a Ravenclaw, "I never heard of a stupid Ravenclaw." He flushes.
"At least I'm not a cheater! You dishonored our entire school with getting your name in!" He growls and there's a grumble of consensus within the crowd.
"Oh? What year are you in, eh? Mr...?"
"Davies," He drawls, "I'm a sixth year."
"Well Mr. Davies, what level of charms would you say would be required to hoodwink a thousand year old artifact?" I say straightening there's an answering silence I smile nastily and say, "Oh? You don't know? I mean you're a sixth year, in the house known for it's wits and you can't suggest the level of power or experience required?" I snort in derision, "If you, someone who's probably at the top of the class, though by your blank stare an open I'm starting to doubt this, can't figure something out, how the bloody hell would a fourth year with little knowledge of the Wizarding world and spells know jack shit?"
"Little knowledge of the Wizarding world?" Someone calls out.
"I'm Muggle raised." I say simply. "I never knew anything about the Wizarding world since I was a little over one years old til I came here at eleven."
"What?" Malfoy says suddenly and I spin around and stare into his surprised eyes.
"My only living relative apparently was my muggleborn mother's non-magical older sister. I live with her family. They hate me, they hate magic and consider every single one of freaks. Every instance of accidental magic that I did while growing up was punished and denied. I didn't even know how my parents actually died til I was on the taken from my so called relatives so I could go to school! The only reason I found out what really happened was because Hagrid was told by the Headmaster to go deliver my letter because they took me with them and ran away. So pray tell, how the bloody hell would I know?" I yell at him, at them. The whole crowd is just silently staring at me. Suddenly I hear my name being called.
"Harry," I hear Hermione call, "Harry! Harry!" I sigh slumping slightly, relieved that she's here.
"Here Hermione," I yell back. I watch a shift of people and she comes storming up spitting mad, her curls bouncing around her face wildly.
"Get out of my way!" She snarls, her expression dark and foreboding, "What are you doing to my best friend?" She snaps at Malfoy when she finally gets to me. "Don't make me hit you again you pompous blond git!" She rounds on the crowd, "What the hell are you looking at? Come to prove your lack of house traits? How swell, the Puffs are disloyal to a fourteen year old boy, their savior. The Claws are proving they lack all wit because they think a fourth year who is, and I apologize for this Harry, nowhere the top of his class is able to hoodwink a mystical artifact. And really Slytherin? If you're so cunning why the hell aren't any of you in the damn tournament as well?" The crowd shifts rather nervously and I laugh bitterly.
"What about Gryffindor?" A red head says as he pushes to the front. She glares at Ron and grabs my hand linking us together as she squares off. I feel a slight tremble and move closer, wrapping myself around her.
"Gryffindors? Oh the House of the so-called Brave is it? Well excuse me for thinking that any of you have a spit of that so called bravery when you're all, but in body, a flock of sheep following the gossip and hurting someone who's always stood up for you! Especially you Ron Weasley! What kind of bravery does it take to turn on your best friends because of petty jealousy?" She hisses. More than a few faces in the crowd have turned ashen, other are furious and angry and worried whispers have broken out.
"That's enough Ms. Granger," We hear a stern voice say and we both look at Professor McGonagall. "You lose fifty points for such blatant disrespect. Mr. Potter, although the Headmaster has agreed to you staying elsewhere this last week, I must insist that you return to Gryffindor Tower and your dorm room."
"No offense professor," I say exhausted, "But I'd rather be in Slytherin, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff before I return there. I no longer consider it my house. The fact it took them one word to turn their backs on me means that their friendship and their loyalty is that little and that worthless."
"Mr. Potter!" She says angrily. "I will not hear such talk! You will return or you shall face severe repercussions!"
"No, you said it yourself, the Headmaster allowed me to stay elsewhere, the Headmaster allowed me to stay in this damn tournament for adults wizards, the Headmaster, dear Professor McGonagall, left me to live in the cupboard under the stairs at Number Four Pivet Drive. Please forgive me if I no longer have the patience for his, 'it's out of my hands, my boy.' I truly no longer care, in fact, if the contract wasn't binding and I wasn't underage with no place to go I would leave Hogwarts." I say simply. "Even if it is the place that is the closest I've ever come to a home."
"Cupboard under the stairs?" She asks faintly. The whispers have gone silent and I ignore the warning tug Hermione gives my arm. I glance at her and she looks at me worriedly. She tips her head in silent question and I merely nod silently and she sighs. I have to get it out while I have their attention.
"Yes, a narrow small space generally used to store items... My aunt and her family stored me, their misfit, there." I respond. "However, after I started school they finally deigned to move me to a bedroom formerly storing my cousin's broken toys. A room they'd always had. Forgive me... If I lack the faith or interest in any of the people here in this school besides a few. Very small few." She stares at me white faced.
"Am I not on that list Mr. Potter?" She implores. I shake my head. I felt bad but after the last week I'd come to terms with this through long talks with Sal and my Gryffindor defenders.
"No longer ma'am. I'm sad to say no teacher here has that privilege." I respond stonily. "After all... What adult expects a child to save them from something they consider dead and gone? And if you had any sense, you would never have left me on a dark cold night to the mercies of my family. What world loves a savior they've never checked in on? Never bothered to see? One that was never informed of their so called duties? Excuse me for wanting the luxury of a simple childhood without worthless things."
"And what would those worthless things be Potter?" I hear Snape's silky voice intone. I watch him glide forward the sea of students parting. I look back away unwilling to meet anyone's eyes.
"Fame," I say coldly, "for one. Expectations I never wanted. Demands. Confrontations with people who hate me because of a war I never participated in. Nearly dying. Dementors. Ridiculous names because of something I have nightmares about." I glance at the man and give him a crooked grin. "How are you yourself Professor? Do you have time to answer a few questions? Because one about the essay. In one of the textbooks I read it suggested in all burn potions but apparently it doesn't work with myrtle. Why is that?" Throwing him off.
"This is a conversation would be better suited for another time Potter," he sneers.
"Can I visit you in your office and ask then?" I say and he eyes me like I'm some strange beast. We're both ignoring the muttering and the sputtering going around us. Surprisingly, it appears I'll be paving a truce with a teacher who hates me than with the blond Slytherin Prince.
"I would prefer not to have a lion in my office," he grouches, but the animosity isn't in his eyes like it usually is.
"I would like to prevent a few explosions. It's hard enough protecting the cauldron from mischief makers, I don't need to be making my own problems." I say back with a slight smirk at Malfoy who flushes. Snape eyes the reaction and fingers his robes.
"As long as you are not there looking to cheat off my own knowledge as a way of not properly earning your own grade Potter I do not mind you stopping in... Very briefly. Now take your little," he sneers at Hermione, "friend, and go to dinner. You're creating an unnecessary disturbance which means you've lost five points from Gryffindor."
"Yes sir, Professor Snape." I say cheerfully not caring if I lost a hundred points, we weren't housemates anymore, anything that happened to them... Well tough luck. Nodding at a pale faced McGonagall I drag Hermione to the edge of the crowd and try to push through.
"What are you doing here still?" I hear him say icily behind us, "Disperse or do you want detention?" The group disperses rapidly and I smile a bit. Seeing the stares in the hall, and the interested gazes, I ignore them while hurrying to the round table.
"'Arry? Dear, vat 'as veen going on? Iz zumming ze mattar?" Fleur asks quietly as I plop myself down a seat away from her. She frowns at us both worriedly and I offer her up a weary grin.
"Just telling off idiot Fleur, just telling off idiots." I say quietly.
"More like running into imbeciles! Honestly our founders would, and should, kick out more than half the students here. Gossiping sheep!" She snaps before seeing a few female students from Ravenclaw trying to edge over to listen, "Trying to listen in?" She hisses and they all retreat, less than gracefully. I shake my head and strike up a conversation with one of the Durmstang boys on Care of Magical Creatures. Apparently they've been handling Pegasus' which I find cool. I mean seriously, winged horses? How amazing would it be to ride one?
...o0O0o...
I remember the first time I saw Potter. He'd been this scrawny little thing in the robe shop wearing beyond awful glasses. Staring at him from my spot at the Slytherin table I had to admit not much has changed. He was still fairly short, still skinnier than anyone else, and had the ugliest glasses in the world. Those wire frames... They were simply atrocious. Sneering at him and fighting with his friends and him had become a common occurrence since starting here, and though I suppressed the interest in the other boy with Malfoy pride there was still some Draco that wanted to get to know him. Damn! Really, what foolishness was I participating in? I wasn't some damn Hufflepuff with sweet gentle feelings I was a fucking proud, pureblooded Slytherin!
"Draco," I hear Pansy coo in my ear and I suppress a wince.
"Yes Pansy?" I say cordially as she sidles up against me batting her eyes at me coyly. I hide my distaste and reach over my goblet. Sipping it I listen to her whine about her classes and how her mother didn't buy her the most perfect dress robes in the world. Thankfully Blaise breaks in.
"Potter was strange today was he not?" He says absently after a bite of food. I set the goblet down and nod as Pansy huffs in annoyance before turning to another Slytherin girl to complain who in turn shoots Blaise a glare of reproach for sticking her with Pansy. Blaise merely notches an eyebrow and she just rolls her eyes while making soothing noises to Pansy empty headed prattling.
"It was... Odd. Though Potter's always been a bit of a weirdo in my opinion. He turned down my generous offer in first year after all. I mean seriously? Who wouldn't want to be my friend?" I drawl and end up glaring when Nott snickers. "What's so funny Nott," I snap.
"I over heard your offer of friendship," he drawls, "it was probably the most pompous and poor thought out attempt that I have ever seen. You insulted the person, even if it was that disgusting Weasel, who had helped him. You put him on the defensive and since then you and his best friend, well former, have fought non-stop. I'm rather surprised he hasn't done more back. You do ruin his potion grades all the time." I flush with embarrassment.
"I only reciprocate what he did to me." I grumble cutting a piece of baked chicken. I hear a snort of amusement from him.
"You were a prat, and ever since then instead of trying to over come your differences you acted like an arse and pushed him even farther into the clutches of that imbecile Ron Weasley. But I have to say Weasley's even stupider. He threw away his sure fire ticket to fame by getting rid of Potter. I don't think there's enough groveling in the world to fix what's going on between those two. Even Granger is more cordial to you than she is to the flamed haired simpleton." Blaise says with a snort of amusement.
"You know... You could probably try to be friends or at least not enemies now that the red headed twit isn't around. You just have to shut up around Granger." Nott says after a sip from his goblet. I choke and Crabbe roughly pats my back.
"Are you MAD?" I squeak out, "Potter hates me."
"'Arry does not hate you." A thick accent says and we all glance up to see the tall Bulgarian Viktor Krum standing near us, arms crossed, and eyebrows lowered over his obsidian eyes.
"I beg to differ," I say politely. "I've been hexed by him plenty a time."
"Vell, ven I brought it up in da library today he did not say he hated you. It vas more... Annoyance? He mentioned exploding cauldrons." I flush again remembering the potion two weeks ago that had covered him in pink slime after I had tossed in some mandrake root.
"Really?" I say, ignoring the small amount of hope hidden under a much larger amount of shock.
"He said he would not mind a treaty. But he probably von't approach you even though he vould like to create some sort of peace. He seems busy and angry. He is... Frustrated vith your lackadaisical headmaster and vorried about the tournament." He says with a scowl and then plops down next to Blaise who looks like he's about to hyperventilate. I glorified in his Seeker abilities, Blaise, being bi, glorified in his Seeker body.
"Incredible," I murmur eying Potter who sat in the middle of hall ignoring everyone gossiping about him in favor of what looked like a heated discussion with an older boy from Durmstang.
"He also has a problem with dis Snape fellow though, as well. 'Arry said dat he vas da potions teacher?" Krum says and I glance over to see him watching the raven haired savior avidly
"Yeah Snape hate's Potter's guts though after that run in in the entrance way... It might be changing." Blaise chimes in.
"Now that... That sounds like a sign of the apocalypse." Nott mutters and more than a few heads at the table nod.
"Vell... 'Arry vill do vat he vants," Krum says rising. "Oh, Malfoy..."
"Yes?" I say meeting his eyes.
"Don't be, vat did 'Ermoninny say? Don't be a prat? Yes, dat's it. Don't be a prat. 'Arry is too defensive this year. 'E may haff the school hating him, but it makes his friends... Edgy. There was talk of devil's snare and I 'eard avout the punch last year done by 'Ermoninny. I do belieff dey are at the point of doing much much vorse. Haff a good day." He finishes and walks away. I feel sick. He hadn't said anything no one had been seeing. Longbottom was a right quiet guy usually, but the last week he'd looked bigger, meaner and a lot more like a Gryffindor. Granger had always been scary and I cup my nose protectively remembering the clobbering smack she'd given me.
"Yeah Draco," Blaise says with snicker, drawing my attention, "don't be prat." I throw a roll at him.
"Jerk." I mutter contemplating Krum's words, Potter's actions and my own feelings. Bloody Hufflepuff tendencies. Glancing at Potter I admit a truce might be a good idea, and think a little wistfully maybe, just maybe, friendship will be offered later. Stabbing a potato I let the others conversations wash over me, and plot.