Disclaimer: I do not own the fictional character J.K Rowling that hide the very real existence of one Harry Potter. Nice try Mister Potter, nice try…

The day of the First task came fast. The champions reunited in a tent, waiting for the crowd to gather and the… preparations…for the task to be ready. Harry looked at Cedric. Cedric looked back and nodded.

Harry, right after the breakfast at which he announced the content of the first task to Hermione, managed to get through the wall of Cedric's supporters and ask for a private word. When a particularly zealous fan stepped between the two of them, barring the way, arms crossed, Harry simply pushed him out of the way. The Hufflepuff was about to get back at him, fist closed, but found a wand right between his eyes, resting on his forehead. Nobody saw Harry draw. Even Cedric gulped as he saw the potential danger in one of his adversaries. He hoped duel would not be part of the task. One moment Harry was walking, the next he had someone at wand point.

"Know your place. This is a Champion's matter," Harry said coldly. If he was to be forced to be a Champion, as well act as one. Funny how nobody dared to question him.

Harry turned away and Cedric followed him.

"This was unnecessary Harry," Cedric told him, shaking his head. "You won't make friends acting like that."

"I guess you're right, Cedric. I'm not good at that. I'm a Gryffindor. I'm more in the saving people business. That's what I've been told, anyway. In the eyes of your friends over there, I'm just a child that stuck his nose into something too big for him. I can't say that I'm indifferent to everything they're saying, it pisses me off big time. But you know what? After this task, they will take us all Champions more seriously and respect us. Dragons, Cedric. We're facing dragons. One for each of us."

The Hufflepuff hero blanched.

"Dragons? You swear it's true?"

"On my Firebolt."

"Okay…but…why are you telling me this?"

Harry looked at the sky in exasperation.

"Man, you're thick. So you can prepare! The French princess and the Bulgarian grunt know about it too. That leaves only you. Call it me trying to make a friend or it's my 'hero saving people' thing, I don't care. Fair play isn't Hufflepuff, Cedric. It's British."

Cedric smiled, chuckling.

"A gentleman, of course. How could I have doubted you? This won't save me from kicking your arse though," said Cedric.

"Then I'll steel my arse so you break your leg on it," answered Harry, grinning.

They shook hands and went each their way. As Cedric got back to his friends, they heard him mumble, "That Potter…you have to respect the man…"

Harry got back from his reverie as more officials entered the tent, preceded by Rita Skeeter, the annoying journalist. She didn't make a good impression on him at the weighing of the wands. A journalist that wants to be on the front page with more space than the champions themselves lack some professional ethic.

He let his picture be taken silently, but without posing either. Ludo Bagman waited for the rest of the officials to be posed by the photograph to say his piece for the paper to a fawning Rita Skeeter.

At long last, they gathered around, and were instructed that the task would be to face the counterpart of what they would pick out of a bag he handed them. The goal was to get the golden egg. Harry winced. If they were mothers protecting their eggs... This would not be a any easier, but it should help him if it stayed over its nest. He poked his miniature version of the Hungarian Horntail he pulled from the bag. As he did so, the replica let loose a cute little flame, trying to fry his index. Harry froze, but then smiled. That would be so fun!

He took a chair and sat, smiling, waiting for his name to be called. The French witch huffed at his apparent lack of concern while Cedric just shook his head, knowing Harry not to be a show-off. He had always backed up what he said in the past. Viktor Krum, on his part, didn't think so and went beside the teen.

"You seem awfully confident, twerp. Any last word you want us to carry out of this tent?"

Harry turned toward him, sizing him.

"You look like a strong wizard, but look can be deceiving. Right now, I look weak, and relaxed. Think about it."

Viktor, not being the fastest spell to leave the wand, had to think for awhile before picking up on the insult. His face showed a grimace but then it was his turn to go. Fleur chuckled, having heard everything.

"Quite the sharp mind you have, Mr. Potter. It was very entertaining to see this brute having to dust off his brain before using it."

Soon after, she was called too. The waiting was killing him! He knew how he had to do this but doing it was another thing. Cedric's turn came soon after. Finally, it was up to him. He left the tent, shaking. He could not help but wince as he heard a lot more booing than cheering. He wondered if Sirius was throwing hexes left and right in the crowd to teach them how to be a good sport. As he saw the nest of eggs, a few strides in front of him, his golden prize sitting on top of it, all thoughts of the crowd zoned out.

Seeing the golden egg so close…the equation formed in his head and he instantly ducked behind a rock. At the same moment, the biggest and nastiest of the dragons he saw a few days ago landed right in front of where he had been a moment ago, preparing to unleash hellfire. Seeing nobody, it stopped and looked around.

Harry, panting behind his rock, tried to get his heart rate under the level that would be more appropriate on the rpm of a racing car. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before the beast trailed his scent and hear his laboured breath. From the tip of his wand, Harry expertly carved a long set of runes with a Rune Carver spell on the boulder he was leaning on. He activated them all and they started to glow lightly. That being done, he took the miniature version of the dragon looking for him not even thirty feet behind his rock and cast a spell multiple times on it.

"Engorgio!"

The small dragon began to grow…and grow…and grow again. Harry cast the spell until it would have been too dangerous to do so. It was half the size of the real one already and wasn't hidden by his hideout anymore. The real beast looked at its copy and roared. The doll, being a fake with a limited set of instructions, charged him, lacking any kind of preservation instincts. Harry, just for the fun of it, sent a strong banisher at its back to give it more speed, sending it crashing into its enemy.

Harry cast a disillusion spell on himself and ran behind another rock, far enough from the first. He carved more runes on it and activated them. He started his dead run again, hearing the two beasts fighting and throwing fire at each other. As he got behind another boulder, he threw a look just before slipping behind it, having run a half-circle around the nest. He wished he hadn't. It was just a doll after all. Its fire was weak and its claws, fake. It was ripped apart. And now the Hungarian was looking for him again. Who said dragons were stupid? He slipped on a loose pebble but didn't take the time to curse his footing as he finished drawing the last rune. He ignored the roar of the beast who finally found him, or the sound he made, coming his way. He activated the last set as he felt a rush of heat come his way. Then, he trusted his left arm forward, not aiming at anything in particular.

The heat shifted upward and an outraged roar told him his plan worked. His arm still held in front of him, he got out of his hiding spot, letting the disillusion spell wear off. The dragon was totally bound in an eagle spread style. Two blue beams of magical energy came from the rock he was hiding behind, restraining its right front and hinder leg. The first rock he carved in restrained his left front and hinder leg. The second one he carved had a single, stronger beam pulling its neck backward, pointing the dragon's head toward the sky. The mother dragon was thrashing against its binds, but they were too strong to be broken.

Harry remembered it was a timed task and ran to the nest, so close behind the beast he could have touched it. He jumped over the blindly trashing tail and took the golden egg as fast as he could. The noise from the crowd hit him as he got aware of the surrounding sounds.

But something else happened, something that none would ever forget. The magical binding didn't break. No. The beast let out a roar. Such an angry cry targeting the world and beyond that it could be heard for a hundred miles around. A roar that effortlessly drowned the cheers of the tiny humans in the crowd. Harry, being the closest one present, nearly jumped out of his skin. He even dropped the egg that harmlessly landed on the ground.

After the initial surprise, Harry was angry. As if the beast managed to hit him by surprise from behind. He was pissed at the dragon for making him jump like that. He slowly walked toward it, stopping straight in front of it.

Harry pushed back his arm in front of him, taking control over the magical binding once again. He forced the beams down, pulling the beast on the ground, on its four legs. It allowed the two of them to be face to face, practically at the same eye level. The magical leash on its neck wasn't a loose rope, it directed the dragon exactly where to look. The beast saw the opportunity and prepared to unleash a breath that would melt Harry at point-blank range.

The runes were not designed for such a use, but Harry twisted his right hand, fist close, arm bending a little. The bind on the neck of the dragon crawled to a snake's strike speed, tying the mouth close. No fire would come out. Harry, under the unbelieving eyes of the now silent crowd, got in front of the massive head and looked straight in its yellow eyes, going so far as to lean over the bound snout.

The beast growled and clawed the ground, trying to get that insolent bag of flesh. If Harry was intimidated, his posture didn't show even a hint of it, nor was his face. Or his own burning green eyes... Instead, he pulled his fist further toward his side, elbow bent. The bind got tighter, and tighter, Harry never breaking eye contact, never blinking. Until…

Fleur got out of the medic tent. Her uniform didn't do much to ward her from the dragon's fire. Thankfully, the stupid thing missed her. It was only a grazing hit. She would have to use some ointment. Oh, well. It was the boy's turn now, wasn't it? Why was the crowd so silent? She came out of the tent, attracted by a loud roar than rang just a moment ago. It couldn't be over yet, could it? She looked down and understood the crowd.

The biggest dragon she ever saw was bound over its nest, forced to face a scary-looking Harry Potter who seemed to hold him magically with his bare arms. Her heart began to race madly at the maddening power and guts it took to manage such a thing! He was close enough to touch its snout with his own nose!

And then the noise that nobody ever heard before rang in the silence.

"YIPEKAÏ!"

Did the beast just yelp?! It sounded like an oversized dog that'd been kicked by its master! The French witch put a hand over her heart, feeling a strange warmth wash all over her. If she cared, she would have seen a few of her classmates faint in a similar position.

Potter held the pose a few seconds, before letting go. He took out his wand and targeted a rock from which the magical bounds came. He pulverized it with a blasting curse. The five beams disappeared at once. Still, the dragon stayed sprawled on the ground.

Harry turned his back to it -turned his back?-, got his egg and walked away. A dragon handler, not knowing what just happened, went to put chains back on the dragon. Seeing it liked that made him forget just one small detail. They usually do that after stunning it with about twenty stunning curse. The dragon looked at the poor man sideways, growling, and got ready to throw some hellfire on the insolent…

But Harry stopped and turned his head slightly sideways to the left, his back still to the dragon. It immediately shut up and sprawled back flat on the ground. Harry, not saying a word, resumed his exit, as the handler slowly backed down with his soiled pants. Fleur was almost panting. What a powerful wizard! What a man!

Harry looked numbly at the score the judges finally got him. A nine from Dumbledore…a ten from Mr. Crouch… a ten from Mrs. Maxime… a six from Karkaroff? Jerk.

Harry didn't wait for the press to catch up with him. He bypassed the tent that held Ms. Pomfrey, giving her a sign that meant he didn't need her this time. She looked even more surprised at this than his prowess with the dragon.

Harry took a big detour to avoid the crowd. It was still early. He went to his greenhouse. He took his raw gold from his reserve, the long-ready mould and the powder to start the fire. Strangely, he felt it was time.

Five whole hours later, Harry was back in the common room. The manual work calmed his mind and the result was well worth the time spent. The small golden scythe was sharp, elegant, perfectly curved and the runes carved in it while it was still white hot was his most beautiful work to date. He was impatient to work with it. His calm was broken when he got in the Gryffindor common room. The noise level exploded in cheers as the party was in full swing. Harry slowly made his way to the middle of the room. Banners of him floated everywhere and pictures of him subduing the beast were all around. Denis must have been working overtime. He refused to be hoisted on shoulders, instead climbing on a table and holding the golden egg high in one hand. The cheers were deafening.

"A victory for Hogwarts! A victory for Gryffindor!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs.

More cheers, more applaud. Not for long.

"Hey! Fred! George! You were taking the bets, right? How much money did you made betting on me? HOW MUCH MONEY OTHER GRYFFINDORS MADE BETTING ON ME?"

The room went dead silent. Faces fell. Not a single smile subsisted.

"I think I should have been a Hufflepuff after all. At least, those are loyal. You, on the other hand, rejected me in the favour of the champion of another house! Of other schools! I'd rather be alone the rest of the year than having a party with you HYPOCRITES! This victory his mine and for the ones who helped me and believed in me. The rest of you are sheep."

Harry jumped off the table and climbed the stairs, people getting out of his way. Everybody was looking down, ashamed. Ron was standing at the top of the stairs. He never had a chance to say a word. Harry spat a single word on his way.

"Traitor."

Ron blanched. Harry went to his bed, got rid of his clothes and pulled the curtain around his bed. His sleep took time to come, but nobody entered the room to disturb his search for rest either.

The next day was plain weird. Gryffindors were staying out of his way. Strangely, the Hufflepuffs stopped tormenting him too. That was to be expected from his speech in the common room the earlier evening and from the house having the other Hogwarts champion.

But the Ravenclaws, who were far from being friendly either, and Slytherins who were equal to themselves, stayed out of his hairs too. On the other hands, the girls from Beauxbatons seemed to be extremely clumsy in his presence and often bumped on him or tripped into his path in such a manner he had to catch them so they didn't break their noses on the floor. Then, they went away, blushing while mumbling an apology. Did they even have classes in the castle?

Another surprise came from Neville who erupted in stuttering apology.

"Why are you apologizing for, Neville?" asked Harry, almost laughing.

"I-I-I could h-have helped you more with battle s-spells and…"

Harry clapped his shoulder, chuckling a bit.

"That speech wasn't meant for you. If anything, the part about the ones that helped and believed in me is! I share this victory with you, Hermione and Luna. You supported me. And I still have two tasks ahead. There's plenty more opportunities to help as you already did, believe me."

Neville seemed relieved Harry wasn't cross with him. His stuttering died down as they made their way toward the next class.

"Anyway, I think you could ask help from anyone in the castle after what happened yesterday! Hell! Even the girls from Beauxbatons look ready to fight to give you a private lesson!"

Harry laughed at that, feeling great to relax with a friend, talking about girls like any other teenager.

"So, that's what it's all about! Too bad for them. I prefer the girls bred on British grounds! Who would want a half-breed woman after all?" he said with a comically disgusted face.

Neville laughed openly at the pureblood-like jab. The fact that Harry was half-blood made it even funnier.

Harry looked at the time and it was getting late in the evening. After his little stunt, nobody dared approach him much, except the twins. Those two were always searching for new pranks. They often came to him for stuff they found too technical, in the eventuality it could be solved with a few quick runes. After seeing his exploit of this year and remembering the pranks of last years, they began to think runes were the solutions for everything. When you have a talented Rune Carver at hand to boot…but Harry got their feet back on the ground. He explained, each time, the theory he'd have to go through to get to the desired effects. It ended up with them holding their head in pain after half an hour of explanation. Then they'd interrupted him, voicing their respect for understanding any of this. Of course, in that half an hour he could have designed the rune and carve them in a minute and a half. Still, they had to work and solve problems on their own. If there was something totally impossible for them, he'd see what he could do but they'd never seemed to be ones to abandon any projects until now.

Harry prepared himself to get to the empty classroom he will be occupying…two hours ago. Not to run into himself, he decided to use the time turner in a corner of the room he'd be using. Luna was waiting…was going to be waiting… for him to get there to work on their rune project. Getting out of the dormitory in the common room, he spotted Hermione who was, unsurprisingly, nose first in a book. She looked up and smiled seeing him arrive. She set her reading down for now, having to talk to her friend. She walked the halls to his rune project room with him, not wanting to take up his research time.

"Harry. I know you're doing well on your school work… well... not bad actually and surprisingly well in potion though…and the first task was… not easy but… you got out on top and…"

"Come on, Hermione," said Harry. "You're babbling. What's on your mind?"

"Your rune project. I know it must be fun, even captivating and God knows I'd like to be part of it but…don't you think you're overdoing it? You can pass all the exams up until NEWT! Take a break! Neville told me he saw you asleep, leaning on a microscope in the greenhouse this morning!"

"I just forgot to take my morning coffee. It's getting harder to kick-start my brain fast enough after waking up."

"See! You're relying on caffeine now! You aren't, in any way, forced to do this!"

"Exactly, Hermione. I'm doing this of my own free will. That's a contract I willingly took and, as such, I find it more important than the Tri-Wizard Tournament. If I give it up, it would be like to abandon what I want to do and who I want to be for what others want. Some would say it's a teenager rebellion. Of course they would, I'm not doing what they, adults who know better, want me to do."

Hermione bit on her lips, once again, no knowing how to answer. She was tempted to say that some adults did know better, like Professor Dumbledore or McGonagall, but she felt it would come out hollow and childish. Harry took her by surprise by talking of something totally unrelated.

"Too bad I crashed the Gryffindor party after the dragon task though. I really could have enjoyed a few cheers…" mused Harry out loud.

Hermione rolled her eyes, getting back to her bossy self.

"Really! Can't you be a little patient? The Yule ball isn't that far away."

"Ball?" asked Harry.

Hermione threw her hand in the air in exasperation. Harry knew how much she loved those moments when she told someone something they didn't know.

"Yes, the Ball! You know, like a late supper with big decorations, dressed-up people chatting about how good they look and dancing on high heels for the sole purpose of regretting it the day after! Since it's an event related to the Tournament, you'll kinda have to be there and... Ah! Yes. Open the ballroom dance with the three other champions and their partners. I doubt you learned that in elementary school, Harry. I guess someone will have to teach a dance class this year. I wonder who it'll be?"

Harry processed all that. He was going to have to ask a girl out! And dance in front of everyone? Since the info came from Hermione, he was fairly sure he could not escape this. He wondered if he couldn't ask the Hungarian Horntail to come with him. They once were close after all, in a kind of love-hate relation. For once, the attention would not be focused on him. He could have asked Cho…but he had seen Cedric hang out with her an awful lot lately. He was too young before this day to know what to do with a girl. Namely, asking her out. Now his chance passed. He figured it was never meant to be. Not to say he wouldn't be a babbling fish if he ever get stuck in a conversation with her.

"I guess I'll have to invite someone, then. Someone who won't put shame on a champion," began Harry, looking up. "Funny how I feel it exclude so many girls in this castle. From what Neville told me, I could ask pretty much any girl from Beauxbatons. Even more than one at the same time!" he pursued with a crooked smile.

Hermione huffed while Harry laughed at her indignation.

"But I think I'll ask a more evident choice," resumed Harry, still looking up.

"You're going to ask Cho?" Hermione asked distracted.

"Nan. That ship passed. I guess. If you're not too busy that night, would you come with me?"

"I guess if I can help you with… what?" she said, catching up.

She stopped walking, looking at him with surprise and… a little bit of fear?

"I asked you… well... to come to the ball with me. If you want to, that is. If you fancy someone else, it's okay too but… you're the first serious girl to ask that crossed my mind and…as you're always there for me and all…"

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"You're babbling."

Harry laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head.

"I guess I am."

"Yes."

"Huh?"

"Yes! I'll go to the ball with you!"

Harry smiled widely but was still very nervous. They resumed walking, an awkward silence having dawned on them. Thankfully, the logical mind of Hermione was never far from the surface.

"At least, I'll be sure you won't embarrass yourself at the dance if I get to practise with you!"

Harry laughed heartily. Always count on Hermione the teacher!

"You know how to ballroom dance?" he asked her.

"No more than you do. We're in for some sore toes!"

They laughed together, the awkward moment gone. Only to be replaced by surprise and fear. A pit, guts feeling of fear.

In front of them, looking up from a book, stood…Harry Potter. They froze. Hermione was panicked but could not move. The second Harry seemed to realize something and straighten back.

"Right. We met here. I forgot," said that Harry.

"I guess the structure of space and time is holding up well," replied the Harry at Hermione's side. "No rift opened and we didn't die. I feel no magical reaction either."

"That's cool then," said second Harry.

"How will be the progress this evening?" asked first Harry.

"On schedule. Funny, I have a feeling of déja-vue."

"Figures," answered first Harry, shrugging.

They high-fived and passed each other. Hermione parted with first Harry, second Harry saying loudly, his back turned: "Hey! I remember a kiss!"

Hermione turned toward him, red in the face.

"No, you do not!"

"Damn," said both Harrys in unison.

Hermione got back with second Harry, since the first one was going to use the time turner anyway. Second Harry was the 'now' Harry. In a way, they both were but... The feeling was weird. As if this one was a fake. She guessed it was one of the dangers of time travel.

"You okay? Hanging on?" asked Harry.

Hermione nodded, lost in her thought.

"Well… see ya tomorrow! I'm tucking in early," saluted Harry.

Hermione looked up to find they were already back in the Gryffindor common room. She didn't even remember passing the portrait! She felt it would not be the last time she'll forget where she was while hanging out with Harry. Never a dull moment…

The next few days were… eventful. The first thing to happen was in Potion. It had been a few months now that Harry avoided detection from Snape. He intended to keep it that way as long as he could. It seemed he would get busted before Christmas. Using his essences, he only brewed perfect potions until now. He had a decoy of herbs hiding his Essences vials in his box of ingredients that he kept mainly close. He always added his ingredients when Snape had his back turned, while faking preparing ingredients or when the Professor concentrated on failing Neville's potion. After each lesson, Snape put more attention on Harry. Each time, watching him leave, he guessed the time before was pure luck.

All of his potions, once graded, earned an 'O'. It came to Snape's mind that Harry must have been cheating with the potion itself, giving a sample made in advance he bought from a seventh's year student. It would not be the first time it happened. He decided to catch him this time.

As usual, he started the class by telling them all how inept they were and told them to follow the instructions written on the board. Harry thought bitterly how nice it must be to earn a living just by being able to write incomplete sentences on a chalkboard. His hate for Snape made him careless that day. Even if he had been paying more attention, would he have caught the glint of the mirror the potion master used to spy on him? Harry was pouring a few drops of essence of daffodils and, the next thing he knew, Snape had his wrist in a vice grip, pulling the vial to look at it at eye level.

"What do we have here, Potter? Really, what is it? I'm curious! What have you managed to put in your potions to cheat your way out with a higher than dung quality you used to achieve before?" said the greasy teacher, alternating between a sneer and a snarl.

"I will tell you, professor, if you let go of my hand. I'm pretty much sure it's bruised by now," calmly answered Harry, his heart pounding hard from the surprise.

Harry hated Snape with all his guts. That's why he never feared talking back to him. It blinded him against the dangerous dark aura that caused everybody else to back down when confronted by him. Snape let Harry's arm go, knowing that the boy had nowhere to hide. He crossed his arms and looked at him with mocked patience. Harry rubbed his wrist, knowing it was time to reveal one of his secrets to the world. He held the vial for everyone to see its content. It had a milk-white colour and oily consistency. It never seemed to damp the inside of the vial.

"This is Essence of Daffodil. It's the physical representation of what make daffodils what it is. It is a magically concentrated version of the plant, without any of its impurity. No dirt, no germs, no sickness or effects of a bad growth."

Harry carefully put the vial back in his potion kit. He fished another one.

"Essence of Wolfbane." He put it back again and took another one.

"Essence of Belladonna. This plant being naturally potent, a smaller amount of the plant was needed to make the same quantity of essence as with other plants. This… "

But that's all he managed to say before being interrupted by Snape.

"POTTER! Stop making fun of all of us! Essence of Daffodil? Essence of Belladonna? Such things don't exist! If they would, don't you think I would know? Besides, even for someone as…wealthy… as you would not be able to afford it."

Snape took his breath to unleash more insults, innuendo and finally, would plainly call him a liar and a cheater, but Harry worked hard on those. He would not let this second-rate teacher pull him down to his level.

"Of course, professor, you haven't heard of it, I invented it this summer. It took me most of my time then but my relatives were quite impressed with the result in their garden. You probably heard of the greenhouse that I will donate to Hogwarts, after I finished using it in my seventh year? What do you think I've been doing there?"

Harry remotely thought he could take some time to grow a patch of flowers with the indication for the tombstone of Severus Snape, but it was not the time to dwell in such thoughts. While the potion master took the time to process what he'd been told, Harry further surprised him by pulling his incomplete potion out of the fire. He emptied it with a cleaning spell Hermione taught him and put water in the clean cauldron from the tip of his wand.

"What are you doing now, Potter," growled Snape.

"Proving my point. See that potion on the blackboard? I'm going to finish it before anyone else here with the sole use of my Essences kit. Nothing else than perfection will come out of it. If I can't manage this, I'll admit to be a show-off, arrogant, attention-seeking prat with delusions of grandeur. I'll admit to cheating since the start of the year. I'll accept any punishments or detentions you'll see fit, for this year and the next. I'll accept to wear a dunce hat in potion classes. Anything. Let me finish this, unperturbed, and we'll see."

Snape smiled. 'I've got Potter now.'

"You heard the Hogwarts's champion, class. No intrusion for the great potion master. Let him finish his grand chef d'oeuvre in peace."

Snape's smile scared more than one: it was disturbing even for the Slytherins. Harry wasn't even fazed. He spent a lot of attention to the board. Now wasn't the time to be careless. He checked the fire to be sure he would be stable, even if he would not have to change it during the making. He doubled checked the order of the ingredients and lined the proper vial before him. He had already calculated how much essence of each he needed. Under fifteen minutes, all the ingredients were in. He put out the fire under his cauldron. He let the result simmer down for three minutes and took a sample in a clear vial. He walked toward the front of the class, whose most of the student still had to put the last ingredient in their own work. All eyes were on him.

Harry gave the vial to a grinning Snape. He should have realized by now that Harry wasn't one to brag. He looked at the potion and his face fell. He uncorked the vial and smelled it. He cast a charm on it and the vial glowed blue. Panicked, he spread some of it on a special piece of paper he got out of his desk. The potion bubbled on top of it and the edge of the paper turned pink.

"HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE!" he yelled, making everyone jump.

"Nothing else than perfection," Harry stated calmly.

Snape looked up at him slowly. Harry looked back square in his eyes. Not a trace of mirth. No trace of self-indulging. A simple serious rock stare. Harry turned his back to him and walked away. People quickly made the link. He had done the same on the dragon he bested the week prior.

Rumours spread fast. Harry putting Snape at his place in potions was something just out of legendary. Nobody really liked Snape, but everyone agrees that he is in the top three best potion makers in Britain. His standing compared to the retired potion master Slughorn was unclear, but one thing was sure: he was amazed to shock and denial from a potion Harry brewed in less than twenty minutes. That much was known. Many seventh year's girls in NEWT potion level classes came to him with gold for some ingredients. Most of them proposed other…method of payment as he refused. Instead, he turned them toward Neville who he said was the one he gets his samples for his most potent essences. He truly hoped his first reaction would be to turn down their gold too since they were all very good looking…

He wasn't looking for distractions… and he lacked the time to do extra essences he didn't have in his potion kit. He made the girls remember he still had to use his time to survive the Tournament. His problems were more serious than NEWT exams.

On top of it, he knew it would be a bad idea to accept any… favours… from other girls while he was still pondering on his own position toward Hermione. He dreaded and looked forward, at the same time, to the Yule Ball.

Another event that happened that week came in the form of the French champion. He had to admit he never saw it coming. He had such a timed schedule it wasn't surprising she found him easily when he was mostly alone. He was working on metal ore in the greenhouse. Neville was working on a wolfbane-lemon plant hybrid. Harry thought that designing a potent Wolfbane potion that tasted like lemonade would be a great gift for Remus Lupin for Christmas. They'd made good progress so far.

Someone knocked on the warded door. Harry didn't trust anyone right now in the greenhouse apart from Neville. He guessed it wasn't above Snape to come and steal potion ingredients. The place was heavily warded now and the door was coded to open only on Neville and Harry's push. Once passed the door, Harry knew it was the second safest place around, right after the castle.

Harry was in the middle of extracting essence of copper. He had enough samples of that ore to afford a few misses and to get the right technique for more precious metals. His fondue burner was too weak to extract anything this time and the only moment possible for it to work was when the substance changed state. He had to melt it. He was currently carrying the melted ore in a rune carved ceramic bowl from the brick oven to his workplace to let it cool down.

Neville went to answer the door, being the less busy of the two and the closer to it. Opening the door, he simply froze. Harry wondered who could transfigure Neville in a salt statue like that. Did Snape stepped over his pride and came to beg for some Essence? Right. He still had to work on that flower bed for Snape. Cactuses don't grow that fast.

Harry went to the door, still blocked by the motionless body of Neville. Looking out, he saw a very ticked French witch.

"Fleur! What gives me the honour of your presence?" asked a truly surprised Harry. Before giving her the time to answer, he clapped Neville hard on the shoulder, making him jump.

"Neville! Why don't you grab a long stick, as Sirius told me, and go to the Whomping Willow? Grab some branches. I want to see if that thing can be turned into something less blind and violent."

Neville, awaken by Harry's clap, acknowledged and hurried to get started on the botanic task. He slipped by Fleur and went away, almost running.

"Fleur Delacour might enter," announced Harry loud enough. Fleur looked at him questionably but her eyes bugged in understanding as she felt the wards she passed.

"This…looks like some heavy wards," she commented, looking around, amazed at the sheer green all around her. Plants were not that high, neither were the small trees but they were all either blooming or already in bloom. The flowers were so… fresh and vibrant.

"Have you done all of this, Harry Potter?"

"I guess you can call me Harry. We're in the same rocky boat after all. To answer your question, I created the stuff making this possible but I left most of the handling to Neville Longbottom. Plants are his gift. He's quite the shy guy, but he's loyal to a fault."

"I must revise my opinion of him then. I thought he was another drooling fan, but anyone that can make this is a true artist with a very acute sensibility…" she said, looking at some lone flowers that needed individual care.

"It was more shock than charm at this point, I'm afraid. He's not very talented with the fairer sex. You haven't answered my first question Fleur. What gives me the honours?"

Fleur turned toward him. Something seemed to…shifts in her as she did so. He detailed her attentively as she slowly made her way toward him, eyes shyly downcast. The sun was gliding on her like its favourite playground. The plants she brushed seemed to trail on her like a longing caress. The air itself seemed to pick up its pace around her if only to allow the slightest wind to play with her golden hair. She stopped in front of him, her foot touching his, her hand playfully grabbing his loose tie as if to observe the Gryffindor colour in it.

"Harry… I really would like you to invite me to the Yule Ball. I know you're a little young for me, but between Champions, it should not matter. Your prowess with the dragon really impressed me and I would like to know more about you. What a perfect occasion than that festive night?"

Harry was floored! Fleur was inviting him? More like asking him to invite her but… why would she… Ah. Yes. Of course. Harry tried to look up at her. In the eyes. The way her chest moved could be quite distracting at this distance. Fleur leaned slightly toward him.

DANGER!

Harry leaned back ever so slightly to avoid her approaching lips. Fleur was no amateur in body language. It was as natural for her than plants were for Neville. Something didn't add up. How could he even resist? She wasn't one to give up so soon though. The most devastating weapon a woman can launch was all indicated for use.

"You…you don't like me?" she almost stuttered, her eyes getting wet. "Am I not pretty enough?"

Harry got out of this particularly uncomfortable position by closing his eyes and stepping sideways from between her and the table she managed to corner him against. He took two deep breaths. Turning toward her, his eye had this hard edge that intelligent wizards learned to dread and fear with time.

"You took me by surprise with that Veela aura of yours. I know I'm not immune to it, only resistant. To be the lone target of it is a new and interesting experience. I can't say your intentions are evil but they certainly are selfish. I guess we all use the tools given to us to reach our goals, don't we?"

Harry started walking around, a finger tapping his lips, as if pondering.

"It's not really stripping a man of his will… more like directing it all on lust. Careful there, Fleur. You might find a man, one day, so aroused by your charm that you'll lose control of him."

Fleur was stunned. How could he still resist? She hadn't diminished her aura even in the slightest, yet! All men were putty in her hands when she focused her charm on them! It made her angry, but she wanted him even more!

"So?" she asked, brushing off her failure. "You can't deny we would look good together at the Ball. Or would you be…intimidated…walking at my side?"

Harry laughed out loud. That witch was something else! She was being logical. Fleur would not have been chosen as a champion if she had not been.

"Sorry, Fleur. You're a bit late. I already invited a nice girl to the Ball. You'll have to settle for your second choice."

"What? Which girl could compare to me? Be it in beauty, intelligence or social skills, I outclass any of the girls that swarm around you, trying to catch a look from you!"

"Watch it, Fleur," said Harry, his demeanour changing fast. "You just insulted about every girl in this castle, including your own classmates. Including my date. That's not a good way to earn points with me. I suggest you get out before I tell the wards that you are no longer welcome."

Harry never let his eyes off from her. She seemed to want to argue further but figure it would not get her anything good today. She turned back and walked out. Harry sighed.

'Too bad,' Harry thought. 'It would have been fun to grab that bum in public while slow dancing.'

He figured he would have to try it on Hermione instead. At the moment the thought played the scene in his mind, his face flushed bright red. Right! As if he would dare!