A/N: Hey, everybody, fascinating news! I got my first flame review! It's still there, if y'all want to go read it. I thought it was kinda funny, how they picked one mildly out of place thing to hate and then stuck to generic arguments for the rest of the review. Seriously, go check it out, this is a big moment for me.
Now, I won't always pay flames this much attention, but I'm in a good mood, and as I said, this is my first one ever. I think the only time I'd pay attention to a flame other than this would be if they actually criticized a real plot hole or serious stylistic flaw they'd noticed. And at that point it's not really a flame, is it?
Why is this so exciting to me? I don't know. Probably because it's new.
Right, I'm done; you can start reading the chapter with the rest of the readers who skipped the author's note.
Harry wasn't quite panicking, but he was close. He knew his way to class pretty well, but he didn't know much about the rest of the castle. Why had the Slytherins even gone this way? Had they realized that heading to the dungeons where the troll was would be bad? If so, where on earth could they be headed?
Harry was brought out of his thoughts by an odd smell. It smelled like rotten eggs. Ugh, what was that?
This was when Peeves popped into view, shrieking. The poltergeist held several eggs that probably were rotten, and he promptly dumped them all on Harry, cackling with glee. "Wandering the wrong part of the castle on the day of the dead, wee little firstie? Now you smell like the dead, too!" Peeves made a loud raspberry as he zoomed backward into the nearest wall. Cursing as well as he knew how, which admittedly wasn't very well; Harry tried to brush the eggs off. Then, remembering he knew how to deal with this type of thing, Harry pulled out his wand.
"Perbito. Scourigify." The eggs vanished, followed by their rotten odor. Harry looked around. He figured he was on the second floor, and that was where Charms was. If he could just find the charms classroom, he'd be golden. As he began to wander the corridors, however, he found himself reminded unpleasantly of his first day. He was hopelessly lost. But then, just as he was about to sink to the floor in despair and wait for someone to come find him, he heard a pleasant voice.
"Oh, you're back."
Harry glanced around madly, his gaze finally falling on the portrait of a pretty woman. Why did she look familiar? Oh!
"You're the one from earlier!" he exclaimed, "You hide the secret passage!"
"Indeed I do, young man," she replied, smiling, "Would you like to make use of it?"
"Yes, I would!" Harry practically shouted. This was perfect; he'd be back near the Charms classroom if he took this passage. Then from there he could try to go to the library or somewhere until it all blew over.
"Very well young man, proceed as you please," the lady said kindly, her portrait swinging open.
"Thank—"
But Harry was interrupted by a wave of stench that put the rotten eggs from earlier to shame. Looking around in confusion, he didn't see anything. And then, from around the corner by the bathroom that he'd talked to Hermione in earlier, a hulking form lumbered into view. The stench immediately grew much worse. Harry only had time to take in the grayish skin and the large club before the portrait swung back shut.
"No, I don't think so. I'll not be destroyed simply because you need an escape route!" The lady proceeded to get up and run as quickly as she could from her frame. Harry swore again. The troll had noticed him by now, and it was sniffing the air curiously. But then it lowered its head and raised its club.
Harry didn't wait. He turned and ran. He knew nothing about trolls, but just seeing it was enough that he didn't like his chances.
Unfortunately, he heard the thundering footfalls behind him growing closer at an alarming rate. Risking a glance backward, he saw the troll moving with incredible speed despite its bulk. Acting on pure instinct, Harry pulled out his wand and shot the first spell that came to his mind. "Furnunculus!" Harry heard a roar of pain, and hoped he'd hit something important. Seeing a fork ahead, Harry went right. He thought he might have hit the face; that was where he'd been aiming. Maybe the troll couldn't see which way he'd gone?
"GRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The gigantic footfalls resumed with the roar, and they appeared to be following him. How? Could the troll…it had smelled him out! He might have even gotten lucky enough to hit its eyes, but that wouldn't save him.
"HEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLP!" Harry cried out, desperately hoping that the professors would have realized the troll wasn't actually in the dungeons by now. But he heard no response.
Fully panicked now, Harry poured everything he could into running. He took as many turns as he could manage, trying desperately to keep distance between him and the troll. After his third turn, however, he heard the troll coming up behind him, too close. Not even sure what he was doing, Harry turned around as quickly as he could. The troll was bearing down on him but it couldn't react, it hadn't expected that! Sprinting right past it before it could recover; Harry managed to get a bit of distance between him and the troll. But then the footsteps began to shake the ground again, and Harry knew his time was limited. He couldn't keep running much longer, his lungs were already on fire. He took a right, then a left, and then a right, fortunately close enough to each other to keep the troll away. But then he found himself on a straightaway, with no turns to speak of. Not sure what he could do, Harry felt hope begin to dwindle. He knew nothing more dangerous than the hex he'd used, and it'd barely slowed the troll down.
Harry was just about to give in to despair when he saw movement at the end of the corridor. It was the professors! Finding just enough in him for one last burst of speed, Harry saw Professor Flitwick cast something over his head. He didn't turn to look, but he heard the loud footsteps behind him falter and slow. He managed to make out a disapproving look from Professor McGonagall as he passed, but then he was past the professors. He nearly collapsed in relief. Then he heard a very loud bang behind him. He turned to see what it was.
Professor Dumbledore stood, wand outstretched, and the troll was flying backwards with great speed. Harry vaguely felt his jaw drop in awe at the raw power that must have taken. Then he saw Professor Flitwick shoot a sickly orange beam of light, which hit the troll's flying body. Suddenly, there was a very sizeable hole in the troll's torso. With a loud and very final thud, the body fell to the ground. Harry managed to stumble over to a wall to prop himself up. His knees suddenly felt very weak.
And then, almost as one, the line of professors who had almost casually dispatched a troll turned to face Harry. He heard a small whimper and looked around, only to find it had come from him.
"What do you think you were doing?" Professor McGonagall had never sounded so cross, "You were ordered to your common room, which is definitely nowhere near the second floor! You are very lucky we tracked the troll as quickly as we did. You could have been killed! What were you thinking?"
Harry could feel himself shrinking under the sheer rage. "I—Professor, I didn't know…the dungeons…I didn't want to get lost," Harry stopped, attempting to regain control of his breathing, but he saw Professor Flitwick's face twist in horror.
"Albus, the dungeons! We sent the whole house of Slytherin right to where we had every reason to believe the troll was roaming!" Horror and understanding dawned on the other Professors' faces.
"They..they didn't go to the dungeons," Harry managed, "I saw them go right out of the great hall. I was behind because of the crowd…I tried to follow them but I didn't know where they were going."
"And then I presume you ran into the lonely staircase, ascended in an attempt to distance yourself from the troll, and found yourself instead being pursued?" Professor Dumbledore's voice seemed to be a wave of calm, slowing his racing pulse and inviting more rational thought.
"Yes, sir," Harry said, "Although I didn't know what the staircase was, I just thought that anything going up was better than nothing."
"Perfectly reasonable," Dumbledore said kindly, looking at his fellow professors, "I think that it may be best if we withhold judgment for now. Harry was, quite uniquely, not with his house as they left the Great Hall, and made every attempt to escape the troll. In fact, some awards might be in order for such quick thinking as to flee from the dungeons even without his house."
"My word!" came a voice from down the corridor. "Filius, did you do this?" Harry and the professors looked to see that Sprout had gone to examine the dead troll.
"What are you referring to? I did use a powerful banishing charm on one of its legs to stop it from reaching Mr. Potter, and then the—ah, drilling spell of sorts to finish it off." Professor Flitwick stumbled rather awkwardly when naming the spell he'd used to finish the troll, Harry noticed.
"No, its face is all messed up!" Sprout called back, "It looks like someone caught it with a rather impressive boil hex."
Flitwick looked suddenly back at Harry. It was a stern look that sent a thrill of panic through him, though he wasn't sure why.
"No, that wasn't me," Flitwick said, "I believe that was the work of Mr. Potter here."
Harry saw the other professors turn to look at him. "Oh! I mean, yes that was me. I thought maybe I could blind it…" he trailed off, embarrassed. It hadn't worked at all; the troll had smelled him out anyway.
"And you managed to hit the troll before it started chasing you?" McGonagall's incredulous voice came from his right.
"Well, no," Harry said, "but it was catching up to me so fast that I knew I had to do something. It was the first spell that came to mind."
Harry felt all of the professors looking at him intensely. He wanted very badly to sink through the floor in shame. He'd used such a pointless hex, and then they just had to find out. He hoped that this wouldn't get out to his classmates, or he'd never hear the end of it.
"My goodness, you hit such a small target while running from a fully grown troll? Why, I'm not sure that even Lily was that good under pressure!" Harry looked at Professor Flitwick incredulously. What about his mother?
"Indeed, it seems that Harry has displayed some rather impressive talent here, in addition to his quick thinking," Professor Dumbledore said, "I believe that at least 30 points to Slytherin are in order?" Dumbledore looked at the other professors questioningly, but none of them said anything. "Excellent. Now, we have a troll to dispose of. Filius, if you could show Harry to his common room?"
Flitwick seemed to take a moment to realize he was being addressed, before saying, "Of course, of course!" and guiding Harry away from the scene. Harry felt the eyes of the professors on his back as they walked away.
Trying to distract himself from the feeling, Harry asked, "You knew Lily?"
The little man looked at him with something akin to disbelief. "Of course I knew her! She was one of my best students! Why, the things she could do with a wand, it was unbelievable!"
Harry nodded, "Yeah, Hagrid told me a little bit."
"Hagrid? I suppose the two did know each other quite well. But your mother was incredible, Harry. She could take a tiny grain of rice and turn it into a fully functional dictation quill, and that was in her fifth year! Why, she was almost teaching the class by the time she graduated. Oh, she was a delight. It truly was a tragedy when…" he suddenly trailed off, sniffing slightly.
Harry wasn't sure what to say. It seemed like everyone had known his parents, or at least his mother. He found himself wondering idly what his father might have been like, especially since no one had really mentioned him.
At last, they reached the common room. "Carpe noctem," Professor Flitwick said, opening the hidden door. The password had changed some weeks earlier. "Well, here we are," the man said, "I imagine the rest of your house will be along shortly, now that the commotion's ended." Harry nodded. "Well then, I'll be off. I'll see you in class, and don't be afraid to come around asking about your parents. I knew them both, and you should know more about them."
"I'd like that," Harry said, before stepping into the common room. He turned and waved goodbye as the wall faded back into place. Then he looked around the empty common room. He came to a swift decision, fetched his book bag from his dorm, and headed to the library. He didn't want to deal with the entirety of Slytherin tonight. He quickly lost himself in his potions textbook, preparing for the next day's class.
It was a little over three hours later that he remembered he would have to return to Slytherin before curfew. He felt a small pellet of dread settle in his stomach.
As he packed up his books, he tried to figure out what he could expect when he arrived. No one would know anything about the troll, so he was probably safe there. All they'd know is that he was missing. He could probably get away with saying that he'd headed to the library instead of the common room, to avoid the dungeons. Yes, he decided that was all he'd say.
And he was wholly unprepared for the reception he got as soon as he opened the hidden common room door.
It seemed that every single Slytherin was present, clogging the couches and standing in various groups. They had been chattering madly about something, but as soon as they saw him, they went eerily silent and began to stare. Harry swallowed, but his throat was too dry.
"Harry. James. Potter," a tall boy sitting in the middle of the room said. "We've been waiting for you to arrive." The boy paused, as if he expected a response. When he continued, his tone was clearly disappointed. "You see, rumors have been flying about you, Mr. Potter. We in Slytherin like knowing the secret truth behind the rumor. And yet there doesn't seem to be a rational explanation here. Did you attack the troll? Why else would Slytherin have earned points? How on earth could someone have managed to do what you did to that troll? I think you can understand our confusion, Mr. Potter."
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. They thought he'd personally handled the troll. Why did they think that? Surely a few house points weren't enough evidence to go by? Harry tried desperately to come up with a sensible alternative, but his thoughts were interrupted.
"And then there's the mysterious new seeker that Flint won't tell us about," another boy said. "All we know is that he's small, probably male, and never takes off his hood. I wonder if that's a coincidence."
Oh, this was bad. He hadn't really taken down the troll, but he was the seeker. He tried to find Marcus's face in the crowd, but couldn't.
"So, Mr. Potter, what do you have to say to us?" the first boy asked.
Harry attempted to swallow again. His throat was still dry.
"I-I…" he croaked, "I don't know what you mean. I wasn't anywhere near the troll, and first years aren't allowed to play quidditch." He fell back to the default that Marcus had taught him for worst case scenarios.
"Oh, you can tell us, Mr. Potter," the boy coaxed, "We're certainly past the point where we think you are just a normal first year. You defeated the Dark Lord as a babe, now you have casually taken out a fully grown troll. It would appear that the legends were correct, despite their absolutely ridiculous magnitude. You may have been hiding your true skills, but now you've slipped up."
Harry felt like the world was crashing down around him. How could they possibly believe that he'd done that to a troll? He'd barely managed to slow the thing down.
"Look, I don't know what you're talking about, but you're definitely drawing the wrong conclusions here!" Harry began walking toward his dorm, hoping to escape this mess. The crowd parted before him in eerie silence. He tried not to think about the gesture as he made his way to his dorm. Once he was there, he wasted no time donning his bedclothes and getting under the covers. When his roommates entered the room five minutes later, he pretended he was asleep. They soon gave up trying to draw his attention. Eventually, he heard all of them get into their own beds. When he finally heard their breathing lengthen and relax, he felt some of his own tension drain away. It still took him hours to sleep as he tried to figure out how he was going to handle the rest of his house. He wasn't certain that blanket denial would work for much longer, it just wasn't convincing.
When he finally drifted off to sleep well after midnight, his dreams were full of large monsters, demanding crowds, and occasionally crowds of giant monsters. He was almost relieved when the buzzing of his alarm charm woke him.
The following morning, Harry discovered what fame was truly like. Until the troll, everyone had avoided openly staring, afraid that he might notice and unleash some Slytherin horror on them. Now, oddly enough, his prowess at defeating a fully grown troll made them less shy. He wondered about this out loud to Hermione and Neville as they walked to potions.
"Well, you're not the sneaky Slytherin anymore, are you?" Neville said, "You went out of your way to beat up a troll. Not that you really did, but that's what they're going to think whether you want them to or not." He hastily added the last part, seeing a dark look from Harry. He'd told the two of them what really happened, but they were probably the only two people in the castle who'd believe him. Everyone else seemed to think he was just denying the truth.
"So you're telling me that people are less afraid of someone who'd go toe to toe with a troll than a measly first year who might pull a prank on them later?"
"Yes," Neville stated with certainty. "The wizard who'd fight a troll won't try to stab you in the dark, or worse, in the back."
Harry shook his head. "People really hate Slytherin, don't they?"
Hermione's face grew thoughtful, "You know, they might just be jealous."
"Jealous?"
"Well think about it. You may not have actually done anything to it, but you were smarter than three quarters of the school about trying to go away from where you thought it was. I know I'm a bit shocked I didn't think of it myself, everyone knows the general location of the Slytherin common room."
"You know you might have something there," Neville said, "You do see a lot of successful Slytherins in business and politics. They're not ambitious for nothing."
The three of them mulled this over as they neared the potions classroom. When they reached the door, Neville turned to Harry.
"You should work with Hermione today," he said.
"Why?"
"I can handle myself for one day, Harry, and you're going to need all the help you can get."
"Wait, why do I need extra help today?"
Neville's face tightened, "You said yourself that none of the Slytherins believed that you didn't defeat the troll. They might be out for blood today."
Harry considered that. Neville was still getting over his timid nature, but he was pretty smart about the wizarding world. And he could see some of the Slytherin boys getting jealous. "Alright. Hermione?" She nodded, and they went to their seats. As he usually did, Harry gravitated to the middle of the room. It wasn't the front, and it wasn't the back. It allowed Snape to carefully ignore him, and Harry wasn't going to mess with that.
As class began, however, their Professor seemed to have other ideas.
"Potter! You seem to think yourself quite adept, what would I get if I was to mix a plucked trumpet flower into a brew of basil?" Snape's tone was sharp enough to cut glass.
Beside him, Hermione inhaled sharply. Of course she'd know, Harry thought. But do I? He tried to remember studying with Hermione, but nothing was coming to him. He thought that perhaps it was a something that increased strength, but he wasn't certain. Looking at the murderous expression on his face, Harry knew he couldn't say nothing, so he made a guess.
"I-I think it's the Muscularity Potion, sir."
Just as Snape was about to reply, Hermione raised her hand. "Sir, I actually had a question about that."
Snape spared Hermione the briefest of disdainful glares before attempting to ignore her. "You—" but to everyone's incredulity, Hermione interrupted the professor.
"Sir, I was wondering whether saffron, or even bugloss might be a better addition to that potion. After all, saffron is known to enhance a potion's properties, isn't it?"
Absolute silence reigned. The Gryffindors were all staring in horrified amazement at Hermione, while the Slytherins stared at Snape, expecting him to enact a horrid punishment. And then he spoke.
"You, Miss Granger, ought to do your research more carefully. Saffron reacts horribly with basil, and has been the cause of many brewers' deaths. Now. Sit. Down." Sufficiently cowed, Hermione sat back down.
Professor Snape seemed to gather himself for a moment. "Today, we will be brewing the very potion we were discussing. Do be sure to follow the correct instructions, or the consequences will be…dire."
Everyone hurriedly got out their materials and began working. Five minutes in, as their basil began to dissolve and they had a spare moment, Harry turned to Hermione.
"What was that?" he demanded.
She looked around pointedly. "Not here." Harry followed her gaze. Even if they were quiet, he supposed it was possible they could be overheard. But that had sounded like the language of flowers to him. He desperately wanted to know what had been said, even if he could see the wisdom of waiting until they had a bit of privacy. So the rest of the potions class passed very, very slowly for Harry. At least whatever Hermione had said to Snape had convinced the professor to resume his typical ignorance of Harry. The other Slytherins in the class would occasionally glance toward Harry, but they all seemed to realize that their Head of House had authority, and had given up his aggression toward Harry.
That didn't mean they would avoid him outside of class, so Harry hastened to get gone as soon as class ended, Hermione and Neville following behind him. After several corridors, and enough turns that they could be certain any pursuers were at least well behind them, Harry slowed. Blaise had advised him about avoidance; the key was to maneuver yourself so that a pursuer was put in a situation disadvantageous enough that they couldn't do anything. Even when he wasn't sure he was being pursued, Harry had gotten in the habit of making himself hard to follow, just in case.
"Harry…what's the big rush…you're acting like all of Slytherin's on our heels," Neville panted.
"They may very well be, Neville," Harry said, "You said it yourself; they're probably out for blood. Especially after what Hermione did in there."
"Harry, I had to do that! Snape was saying—"
"Hermione, I don't blame you! Still, we need to be careful going forward. It's hard to say exactly how Slytherin as a house feels about us right now, but it's safer to assume they don't like us than it is to assume they'll leave us alone."
"So we need to run in the corridors?" Neville asked.
"We need to avoid Slytherins in the corridors," Harry corrected, "It doesn't really matter how we achieve that."
"Right," Neville said. "So what did you do in there Hermione?"
The girl in question looked around nervously, "Well, you remember the language of flower, right?" she asked in a hushed voice. Neville nodded. "Well, Snape's question was more than just trivia, like our first day, or that time he told us to be careful with the pineapples. Except this time he wasn't being nice at all. The trumpet flower and basil mean something like, 'Your fame causes me hatred.' So I took the time that Harry spent answering the actual question to formulate a little response. Saffron and bugloss would definitely be a bad idea to add to a potion together, but it was the best I could come up with. They mean, 'beware of excess falsehoods," if I remember correctly. I figured that might get Snape to stop and think, because he must know the real story, he's a professor!"
"And you were willing to interrupt the strictest teacher in the school to tell him this?" Neville asked incredulously.
Hermione paled a bit at the thought, "Well, I knew that he had to put on an act. I suppose I was hoping I could get through to him before he assigned a detention."
Harry was impressed. That had been a risky move, but she'd charged right ahead with it anyway. But that was Hermione, wasn't it? She'd done the same thing at the feast. "Well, good job getting Professor Snape to back down, Hermione. I must say though, that was a pretty risky move. I think anyone doubting that you have what it takes to be in Gryffindor will be reconsidering that notion right about now."
"What do you mean?"
"Hermione, you stood in front of the professor that three quarters of the school fears and corrected him on a matter of judgment. No one else may know exactly what you were up to, but they did see Professor Snape back down from you after you talked over him. I don't think anyone has ever pulled something like that off."
Hermione was blushing profusely. "I…I hadn't thought of it that way," she said, "I was just helping you out."
"Hermione, if the troll taught me anything, it's that what others see matters a whole lot more than what actually happens. What really happened is even more incredible than what people saw this time, but what they saw was still pretty unbelievable. You could be a legend by dinner."
"Well," Neville interjected, "she might have been, if the rumors about you weren't still everywhere. You never know how people will manipulate what happened, but sometimes you can make decent predictions."
"What do you mean by that?" Harry asked.
"Well, Snape was digging into you in class. Hermione defended you, not herself. I know that the Daily Prophet would probably write something about her being your…well your protective minion or something."
"They say what?" Hermione exploded.
"Er, Hermione, calm down!" Neville said, backing off slightly, "I said that's what they might say, not that they have! But still, you have to admit it makes sense. Harry is the sensation right now, and everyone knows you're his good friend. I might even believe it if I didn't know the truth."
"That makes absolutely no sense at all!" Hermione raged, "People don't just have minions to protect them from scorn, and Harry and I are friends, not some perverse servant and master!"
Harry, who had been listening carefully, interrupted at this point, "Well, it might be obvious to you, Hermione, but look at it from their point of view. We hardly go out in public, and you just defended me from an angry professor. It's definitely not true!" he added at her look, "But that's only obvious because we're…us. It's just like I was saying. It doesn't matter what the truth is. People think I singlehandedly killed a troll. Next to that, having a bodyguard isn't hard to believe at all. I mean, even Malfoy has bodyguards."
Hermione's face contorted with rage. "Are you comparing me to—"
"NO!" Harry cut her off, "I'm just saying that's what it looks like. I don't like it either; people have more reasons to stare at me now."
Hermione seemed mollified by that.
"So," Neville said, clearly trying to change the subject, "what do you think's for lunch?"
After lunch, in the library, Blaise came to visit. Harry was actually mildly surprised that it had taken him so long.
"Hello Blaise," Harry greeted, Neville's warning coming to mind unbidden.
"I won't waste time. What really happened?"
Harry was a bit startled by the bluntness. "I assume you're asking about the troll?" Blaise didn't speak. "…right, well what really happened was that I ran into the troll after trying to follow the rest of Slytherin." Harry had found out earlier that they'd been going to the Hufflepuff common room, which was inviting enough to accommodate as many guests as necessary. "I lost sight of the group, and ended up on the second floor. Then I ran into the troll."
"And you really did kill it like—like that?"
"How does everyone even know about that?" Harry asked, "I thought the professors said they were going to clean it up."
Blaise's eyes bugged out, "You DID kill it!"
Harry realized his mistake too late. "NO! The professors did, Blaise! Think, I'm a first year, how on earth could I have done something like that? I just want to know why the professors didn't clean up after themselves."
Blaise was silent for a moment too long. "They did clean it up. But in doing so, they were seen transporting the corpse out of the castle, gaping hole and all. And with the extra thirty points in Slytherin's hourglass…"
"Of course they jumped to conclusions," Harry muttered. It frustrated him to no end, but there was little he could do. "Well, now you know the real story. I barely found the professors in time to get away with my life. I really wish you could tell the others about this, it'd help to have a source they actually believe."
Blaise looked at him oddly. "And in potions? Something about fame and excess?"
Hermione spoke up, "Snape told Harry that he hated Harry's fame. I told Snape to beware of excess falsehood."
Blaise looked at her in disbelief. "You interrupted one of the most influential people in the castle to tell him he had his story wrong? I have a hard time believing that, Granger."
Harry grabbed Hermione's book bag, and pulled out the guide they'd been using. "Check for yourself then. I didn't realize Hermione had been memorizing this, but it's what we've been using to translate the language of flowers."
Blaise looked at the book, something like shock on his face. Then his expression went suddenly blank. "I have my own sources, thank you." He paused, looking around. "I think it's time I left. Everyone will be talking after your stunt in potions, and I can't very well be absent from the conversations for long." He left without another word.
"So," Neville said, "he's your ally in Slytherin." It wasn't a question.
"Yes," Harry replied, "and he has been useful. Before you came along, he was the only reference we had for the wizarding world."
Neville shook his head, but didn't say anything more on the subject.
"So," Hermione began brightly, "who's up for that Charms homework?"
Harry worked with Hermione and Neville for several hours, before making an excuse and preparing for quidditch practice. He had a game coming up, on top of everything else. This mess could hardly have come at a worse time.
A/N: This is a point I feel like clarifying (in the pursuit of a mysterious purpose). Anything that hasn't had a reason to change is still 100% cannon. This is why some of you have noticed direct quotes from Rowling.
This is also especially relevant in this chapter, for one specific reason that I won't share with you right now. I even put in a few red herrings, to help throw you all off the scent.
Best of wishes,
feauxen
P.S. So, for those of you checking, the next chapter may be up to a week late. I'll explain later. I do apologize, things have happened.
