Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I just like messing with J.K. Rowling's characters.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Sorry this chapter is just going up, I was on vacation all week and had no computer access. Enjoy.
Warnings: None for this chapter.
Note: "Speaking" / 'Thoughts'
Last Time: "No, Granger," Harry said. "What's wrong is that you're trying to change things that shouldn't be changed. This isn't the Muggle world. If you don't like the way things are here, feel free to leave."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Although Harry managed to ignore S.P.E.W. and all one of its members, something came up that no one in Hogwarts could ignore.
One dreary February morning, owls descended upon the Great Hall as usual, most of them carrying copies of the Daily Prophet. As students unrolled their papers, an eerie silence blanketed the Great Hall. Harry found out why when he unfurled his own copy of the news.
LONGBOTTOMS FOUND DEAD
To the utter shock of the Wizarding community, Augusta, Frank, and Alice Longbottom were found dead on the lawn of their family's ancestral home. The house itself was burned to the ground. The Dark Mark was found over the house, meaning that this was the work of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The Longbottoms went into hiding after attempt on their lives by Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Bartemius Crouch Jr., who have all received the Dementor's Kiss for their many crimes.
Augusta's grandson, and Alice and Frank's son, Neville, currently attends the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There has been no word from the school on this matter.
We at the Daily Prophet offer our condolences.
Harry saw Neville leave the hall to avoid the scrutiny of his peers.
"I'm not surprised," Theo said in a quiet voice. "The Dark Lord just demoralized the Light. Think about it. The Longbottoms were his staunchest supporters, besides the Weasleys, of course. Who's going to be his figureheads now that they're gone?"
"Who did you think took care of them?" Pansy asked.
"Probably Rabastan," Harry said. They had seen the sulking Deatheater from time to time in the Dark Lord's headquarters, but they hadn't met him yet. "He would want revenge."
They would have said more but Dumbledore stood up to make an announcement. The twinkle was clearly gone from his eyes. He gazed out over the sea of students, looking as older than he was. "I'm sure that all of you have read today's news. Out of respect for the family, I wish to ask that all of you refrain from discussing this in the corridors. Now please go to your morning classes. Thank you."
Harry and his friends rose from their seats and headed to Potions. When they arrived, Neville was already there. He was sitting alone. The tears hadn't fallen yet. He was a Gryffindor, after all. Once Professor Snape arrived, they set to work and began pulling out their cauldrons and ingredients. Except for Neville.
Snape looked down at the third year and said, "Mr. Longbottom, do you need an invitation to start working?"
Neville looked up at Snape and said, "No, sir."
Harry could see it in his eyes. Neville had changed. In the time since the news had arrived, he had skipped straight over the first stage of grief and had moved onto the second. Anger.
Snape ignored the warning in Neville's eyes and said dismissively, "Then get to work."
A wave of magic flowed through the room, tipping over cauldrons and pushing students off their stools.
Neville stood at the center of it all, his eyes pulsing from the power of his accidental magic. And then he rushed out of the room.
"Longbottom! Snape yelled from where he had fallen against his desk. "Get back here!"
Neville didn't come back. It was safe to assume that the lesson was over, as almost everyone was too dazed from what just happened.
After classes were over for the day, Snape reported to Dumbledore to explain what had transpired in his third year Potions class, even though the Headmaster already knew most of the details.
"If Longbottom finds out who told the Dark Lord where his family was, he'll be out for blood." the Potions professor said.
"I won't allow him to come after you, Severus. And you had no choice but to do it. Now Voldemort believes that you're fully on his side. He'll trust you more than he ever has. If we can discover who his apprentices are, we can deal with them before they become major threats.
Except the Dark Lord wasn't a fool. After all, Severus had come forward about knowing information about the Longbottoms and the wards around their manor. The Longbottoms had been in hiding for ten years and Severus had just "happened" to come across this knowledge. What a coincidence.
But now that he was sure of whom the traitor was in his ranks, there would be hell to pay for their treachery. The true test of loyalty would come soon.
As the year went on, Quidditch quickly took priority. It didn't help that Slytherin was tied with Ravenclaw, and Flint was riding them harder than ever in practice. Fortunately, they managed to pull a crucial win going into the Easter holidays.
As always, they took the Hogwarts Express to London. Almost right after they disembarked from the train, they were whisked away to meet with the Dark Lord.
"I trust that you have been practicing the Patronus Charm?" he said. They all nodded. "Then I want to see it. Theo?"
"Expecto patronum!" The bright form of a wolf burst from Theo's wand, but dissipated a few moments later.
"Excellent. Daphne?" Daphne cast the charm and the vague outline of a horse shot out of her wand. "Good, work on making it more corporeal. Harry?"
Harry brought his wand down while saying, "Expecto patronum!" To his surprise, a snake slid out of his wand and slithered along the floor, looking for danger. When it saw that there was nothing to fear, it slowly evaporated. Harry managed to keep a straight face, as if he had expected it all along.
The Dark Lord had a look of amusement on his face, as if he had detected Harry's surprise, but called for Pansy to go next. Pansy managed to produce a Patronus in the form of a panther that slinked around the room before disappearing. Draco's Patronus had wings, but they couldn't tell much else about it. Blaise's Patronus wasn't much of a surprise: it was a fox with a mischievously sly look about it.
When they were done, the Dark Lord said, "You may go. I will inform your parents the next time I wish to see you. Keep working on the Patronus Charm. The next time I see you, we will begin working on darker things."
They had a peaceful holiday, and saw the Dark Lord three more times before returning to school. When they got back to Hogwarts, it was clear that Hermione hadn't given up S.P.E.W., much to the dismay of many pureblooded, and even halfblooded, students in the school.
"She's an embarrassment to Hogwarts," Draco muttered at lunch one day.
"That's an understatement," Pansy said. "If she doesn't stop, she might have another encounter with a troll."
Slytherin ended up winning the Quidditch Cup, much to their happiness and Gryffindor's dismay. It had ended up being a relatively fair match between them and Ravenclaw for the title.
At the end of year feast, Dumbledore made an announcement. "Professor Quirrell will not be returning to Hogwarts next year. After many years of service to the school, he has decided to embark on a journey abroad. His replacement will be announced over the summer." The shaky, stuttering professor bowed to the students and returned to his seat, and then the noise of the students' normal chatter returned to its normal level.
"You do you think the new professor will be?" Pansy asked.
"Hopefully, they'll be better than Quirrell," Draco said. "He wasn't absolutely terrible, but there are definitely better teachers out there. Like Remus."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You know that someone with his condition can't teach at Hogwarts."
"So?" Daphne said. "I rather have him than whatever fool Dumbledore will probably come up with."
After the feast, they slept in their dormitories the last time that school year. The next morning, they boarded the Hogwarts Express and headed home.
Sure enough, Dumbledore chose a fool for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Harry and Draco were enjoying tea in the Malfoys' dining room with Remus, Mrs. Malfoy, and Harry's mother when Lucius came storming in. "I can't believe that man!"
"What is it?" Draco asked.
"Dumbledore just informed the Board of Governors of his choice of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He chose Gilderoy Lockhart."
Remus snorted. "He may have been in Ravenclaw, but that bloody idiot could barely cast lumnos. I don't know how anyone can actually believe the drivel that he writes."
Harry and Draco looked at each other. After all, everyone knew of Gilderoy Lockhart. Adventurer, author, defeater of dark creatures, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"The chances that Gilderoy Lockhart did anything he says he did are the same chances I have of renouncing the Dark Lord," Lucius said. "Lockhart's nothing more than a fraud. He claims the deeds of other witches and wizards as his own. Of course, the people he steals his tales from have no recollection of any of it."
Draco asked, "He uses memory charms on them?"
"That's the only thing he can do," Lucius said. "Dumbledore's absolutely mad for choosing him as a professor."
"Is there anything else Lucius?" Narcissa asked. "You seem a little upset over just one teacher. We know Hogwarts standards have been falling anyway."
Lucius sat down in the nearest chair and rubbed his eyes, trying to abate his growing headache. "Dumbledore...Dumbledore's managed to convince the Ministry to revive the Triwizard Tournament."
Regulus stormed into the room moments later, much like Lucius had done a few minutes prior. "I can't believe that idiotic...I'm guessing you already heard the news."
Harry nodded. "Mr. Malfoy just told us. Dumbledore's bringing back the Triwizard Tournament, high death toll and all."
"Essentially, yes. He's to exercise control of it by allowing anyone over the age of fourteen to enter if they have a parent's permission. No one who's of age needs his or her parent's consent. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be joining you at Hogwarts on Halloween. And you won't be happy with the rest of my news."
"What is it?" Harry asked warily.
"Quidditch has been canceled for next year, in order to give you more time to focus on international magical cooperation, Dumbledore's words, not mine, instead of house rivalries."
Draco's jaw dropped. "No Quidditch? But...but..."
"Please close your mouth, Draco," his mother said. "You're catching flies."
"But don't worry," Lucius said. "I brought the situation to Fudge's attention, so he's making it up to me by providing tickets to the Quidditch World Cup for you and all of your friends. You'll be right inTop Box. Best view of the stadium."
"Sweet," Draco said.
A few days later during their training with the Dark Lord, they were practicing shielding and cutting charms. Voldemort pulled Harry aside.
"You'll enter your name in the Triwizard Cup. If you get chosen, you will win the tournament. Understood?"
"Yes, my lord."
Before they went to the Quidditch World Cup, they received their booklists for the year. Their assigned books for Arithmacy, Ancient Runes, and their core classes were what they expected, but Harry almost gagged when he saw that Lockhart had assigned them all of his books.
"His ego is bigger than Ron's," Draco remarked.
That day, they went to Diagon Alley to pick up their school supplies and a few sets of new school robes. Once they were done shopping, Harry and his friends went to Fortescue's to get ice cream while their parents took care of other business.
Of course, there was the inevitable run in with Ron. Hermione and Seamus were with him.
"What do you want, Weasley?" Blaise said. "Shouldn't you be begging on the streets somewhere?"
"Shut up, Zabini," Ron countered. "And guess what? Percy's working as a secretary in the ministry and managed to get us tickets to the Qudditch World Cup!"
Pansy pretended to yawn. "How exciting. While you enjoy your one knut seats, we'll be in the Top Box. See you later Weasley."
They got up and left their table in order to avoid further confrontation.
The day they were due to leave for the Quidditch World Cup, Harry's father surprised him with a present. "Since there won't be Quidditch at Hogwarts this coming year, I thought that this might make it up." He handed Harry a rectangular box.
Harry opened it and revealed a long package wrapped in paper. "A new broom?"
"Not any broom," his father said. "Open it."
Harry carefully tore the paper and string off the broom and gasped when he saw that it was the new Firebolt. The broom was the office broom of the Quidditch World Cup, and it wouldn't be going on sale to the public until after the game is over.
"How did you get this?"
"I have a friend who has stock in the Firebolt Company, and he owed me a favor. Do you like it?"
"Do I like it? Of course I do! This is wicked!"
"Good. Now we should probably be going. Lucius said that we'd be leaving at nine." Harry glanced at the clock. It was almost a quarter until nine.
"Okay." Harry threw his overnight bag over his shoulder and then they left left through the floo. They almost bumped into Draco when they stepped out of the fireplace at the other end. "Sorry I'm late."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I was about to come looking for you, where were you?"
"You'll never guess what my father got me," harry said.
"What?"
"A Firebolt."
Draco eyes widened in a way that was almost comical. "Are you kidding me?"
"Nope. It's in my room right now."
"You can ask for one later, Draco," Lucius said, almost as if he had read his son's mind. "We should be going now. Our tent is in the V.I.P section, so the portkey will take us straight there."
The rest of their friends emerged from the dining room and joined them. They all put a finger on the portkey, and then it whisked them away to the campsite for the Quidditch World Cup.
They landed in front of a tent that looked like a castle. Albino peacocks were tethered to the ground in front of it and an elaborate sign in front of it read 'Malfoy'. "Here we are," Lucius said. "Girls bedrooms are to the left and boys' to the right. Harry's father and I have to go speak to some of our friends. Feel free to go buy some souvenirs. Just make sure to take your wands and be back by two o'clock."
The teens all nodded, and then they went into the tent. Everyone had his or her own room, all of which were all sumptuously decorated in a way similar to the guest rooms of Malfoy Manor.
After extracting some money from their bags, they reconvened in the sitting room and then left. Merging with the crowd, they roamed from vendor to vendor to buy things like scarves and figurines of the players. They also bought Omnioculars to watch the game with.
They got back to the tent just before two. Harry's and Draco's fathers were already there. A house elf served them lunch, and then an hour and a half later, they began heading to the stadium. The game was due to start around six.
Right when they arrived at the main gate, they were escorted to the Top Box, ahead of the rest of the crowd of cheering fans. There must have been tens of thousands of people there.
The chairs in the top box were comfortable and plush, and richly upholstered in dark purple velvet. Before they could sit down, Cornelius Fudge, the British Minister of Magic, accosted them.
"Mr. Malfoy! Lord Black! What a pleasure to see you! And I see you brought guests."
"My son, Draco," Lucius drawled. "Lord Black's son, Harrison, and Miss Daphne Greengrass, Miss Pansy Parkinson, Miss Blaise Zabini, and Mr. Theodore Nott."
Fudge pumped each of their hands up and down. Harry almost smirked when he saw Pansy discreetly wipe her hand on her robes.
"What a pleasure, what a pleasure!" Fudge gushed. "This is the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, Mr. Vladimir Oblansk. He doesn't speak English, I'm afraid."
The Bulgarian Minister settled for a simple bow in their direction. As he lowered his head, he made eye contact with Harry and winked. It took Harry a moment to catch on, but then he nodded back. His father, godfather, and friends had seen as well, so they were all in on the joke.
They took their seats and used to opportunity to test their Omnioculars. They were able to zoom in on the action and slow down and rewind it, as well as put captions on the images they were seeing.
Looking around the stadium, they could see people either sporting the colors of Ireland: green, white and orange, or the colors of Bulgaria: white, dark red, and green. There was a giant blackboard above each set of goal hoops advertising things such as 'Bluebottle Family Brooms' and 'Mrs. Skower's Magical Mess Remover'.
Soon, however, Fudge began the spectacle by announcing the arrival of each team's mascots. First were the Bulgarian mascots.
Fifteen or so beautiful women paraded onto the field. "Veela," Harry's father explained. "They're very...charming women."
Because they were within the enclosure of the Top Box, they were all protected from the Veelas' enchantment. But they did get to watch other men around the stadium make fools of themselves, only to be pulled back into their seats by furious wives, girlfriends, or mothers.
"And now," Fudge said one the hubbub from the Veelas' appearance died down. "The Irish mascots!"
Hundreds of small lanterns flew into the air, and it didn't take long for most people to realize that tiny men were carrying the lanterns. Leprechauns, to be exact. First, they formed an image of the Irish flag, and then a giant leprechaun dancing in the sky. As they dispersed, they showered the crowd with leprechaun gold.
Fudge then announced the head referee, Hassan Mostafa, and the referee's assistants. And then it was time to announce the players. "From Bulgaria," Fudge shouted using his magically amplified voice, "Zograf, Ivanova, Dimitrov, Levski, Vulchanov, Volkov, and Krum!" The Bulgarian team, dressed in dark red robes and flying on Firebolts, shot around the field.
"From Ireland," Fudge continued, "Ryan, Mullet, Moran, Troy, Connolly, Quigley, and Lynch!" The Irish team flew out of the wings wearing their emerald green robes and circled the pitch.
After dutifully standing at attention for the national anthems of both countries, the players got into their starting positions. And then the game began.
It was fast than any game Harry had ever seen. The Quaffle changed hands more times than he could count and the bludgers were blurs in the air. The lead went back and forth as the score steadily crept higher.
And then a red blur dove down from the sky.
"It's Krum!" the commentator shouted. "Has he seen the snitch?" But Krum pulled out of his dive. Lynch, who had been following him, plowed into the ground. The Irish seeker got up shakily from the ground and waved away the mediwizards, despite the fact that he was bruised and bleeding. "Amazing! That, ladies and gentleman, was a perfect Wronski Feint!"
Harry used his Omnioculars to watch Krum's move again and again. He was amazed. At best, his feints were a few meters above the ground. Krum's toes had brushed the grass of the pitch.
Returning to the action, the game began going faster. And then Krum dove again, and again, Lynch followed him. But this time, everyone could see the small flash of gold that the two seekers were doggedly pursuing.
And then a bludger shot straight at them. Lynch managed to dodge out of its path, but the heavy metal ball hit Krum straight in the face. There was a sickening crack and the stadium fell silent.
But Krum was still going, despite the blooding flowing from his clearly broken nose. His hand closed around the zigzagging golden snitch, and the stadium exploded in cheers. Red, white, and green fireworks went off.
"Bulgaria wins! Bulgaria wins!"
The Bulgarian team and coaches were jumping up and down in celebration. After shaking hands with the Irish, they mounted their brooms again and took their victory lap around the stadium.
"And now, the presentation of the Quidditch World Cup. Please turn your attention to the Top Box."
Harry and his friends all stood as the magnificent trophy was wheeled in. The trophy was made of gold and had several tiers. The Bulgarian and Irish teams trooped in a few minutes later, all of them looking completely exhausted.
"Well played, well played," Fudge said. "First, the consolation medals for the Irish." He called the names of the players of the losing team and placed a consolation medal, hung off a purple ribbon, around each of their necks.
"And now Mr. Oblansk, the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, will present his team with the Quidditch World Cup."
Fudge stepped aside and the Bulgarian Minister stepped forward. "Well played," he said with a thick, heavy accent. You have done Bulgaria proud."
The look on Fudge's face was priceless.
After Mr. Oblansk presented the Quidditch World Cup to his country's team, the Bulgarian national anthem echoed through the stadium as people began to disperse and return to their tents.
The Irish team left the box to return to their locker room and lick their wounds, but the Bulgarian team stayed behind to talk to their Minister of Magic. After a brief conversation with the players, Mr. Oblansk pulled them over to meet the guests in the Top Box.
"This is Lord Regulus Black and his son Harrison, Mr. Lucius Malfoy and his son Draco, and Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson."
When the seven players returned their greeting, Harry got a chance to look at Krum. Blood still dripped from his nose, although it looked like a mediwizard had had a chance to heal it, and two black eyes were blooming on his face. The seeker seemed far less graceful on the ground then in the air, and walked slightly duck footed.
Mr. Oblansk, Harry's father, and Draco's father wandered away from the teens in order to speak to the many politicians now flooding the box.
Finally, Basia Ivanova, one of the chasers and the only woman on the team asked, "Do you play Quidditch?"
Harry nodded. "I play seeker and Draco plays chaser."
"You play for Hogwarts?" Victor asked.
"Yeah," Draco said. "We're in Slytherin."
Victor leaned forward so others wouldn't overhear. "Do you know about the tournament?" All six Hogwarts students nodded. "Then I'll see you in October."
After spending a few minutes speaking to the professional players, Harry and his friends returned to the tent. Regulus and Lucius returned shortly after they did.
"Listen carefully," Lucius said to them. "The Dark Lord has something planned for tonight. There will be some commotion. We will leave the tent about a minute after the screaming begins. I will lead you to the woods, and then Harry's father and I will apparate you back to Malfoy Manor. The house elves will take care of your things."
"Go try and get some sleep," Harry's father added. "We'll wake you up when it's time."
They nodded and went to their rooms to put on their pajamas, and then went to sleep.
Sure enough, the screaming began a few hours later. Harry heard his father say, "Harry, wake up!"
The fourteen-year-old jumped out of bed. He threw a cloak over his pajamas and pulled on his boots. He made sure he had his wand in his hand and then rushed into the living room.
"Everyone have their wands?" Regulus asked. They all nodded. "Good, let's go."
They left the tent and fell into crowds of panicked wizards and witches running every direction. It was complete chaos. Calling it a commotion would be an understatement.
"This way!" Lucius shouted over the mayhem. He led them to the woods, where many others were trying to hide from the Deatheaters. After making sure that plenty of people had seen them, Lucius and Regulus side-along apparated the teens back to Malfoy Manor.
In the aftermath of the attack, Dumbledore gathered the Order of the phoenix to discuss strategy. "Clearly, our old friend Tom is on the move. Severus, did you know about the attack?"
"No," the spy said. "The Dark Lord only told those who were involved. It was more of a scare tactic than anything."
"That's how things started last time," Moody said from the corner. "A few deaths here and there, little demonstrations of power like that one. Now people are going to start dying left and right. Believe me, this is only the beginning."
Dumbledore asked, "Kingsley, is there any news from the Auror Department?"
The Auror nodded. "There weren't any deaths." Here, everyone let out a sigh of relief. "But there were some injuries. Most of the injuries were from stray spells or from people nearly trampling each other in order to escape. But there's worse news. The Ministry's publishing a press release tomorrow, but I'll tell you now. Neville Longbottom was kidnapped."
All of their heads snapped to Kingsley in alarm. "Are you sure?" Molly Weasley asked, distraught. After all, she, along with most of the Order, had developed a soft spot for the boy who had joined them in his parents' stead.
Kingsley nodded gravely. "They found his wand at the scene. Someone had snapped it. Severus have you heard anything?"
"No," the former Deatheater said. "The Dark Lord hasn't called me yet. It'll probably happen sooner today."
Madam Pomfrey asked, "Albus, are you going to cancel the tournament?"
"The Triwizard Tournament will continue," Dumbledore said. "We can't allow Voldemort to believe that he can scare us into hiding. We must stay strong."
Harry and his friends quickly discovered where Neville was. After their daily training with the Dark Lord, instead of dismissing them, Voldemort led them to the dungeons, somewhere where he hadn't allowed them to go before.
"Rabastan, here are your new pupils."
So they were finally meeting the feared Deatheater. Strands of dark hair fell into his hardened eyes. "Follow me," he said in a surprisingly clear voice.
They followed down the narrow and damp corridor to one of the cells. Inside was Neville. His clothes were tattered and dirty and he was covered in cuts and bruises. The stoic Longbottom heir looked bravely up at his captors.
"Good to see you again, Neville," Rabastan said conversationally. "Have you considered the Dark Lord's generous offer yet?"
"I'll never join him!"
"Pity. But I thought I might bring a few familiar faces to help convince you." He gestured for Harry, Pansy, Draco, Theo, Blaise, and Daphne to step out of the shadows.
Neville stifled a gasp, but said, "Why am I not surprised?"
Rabastan said, "So you do have a brain, Neville. Why don't you use it to make the right choice? It would be such a shame to kill you." The tone of his voice said differently, and it didn't help that he was twirling his wand in his fingers.
Harry decided to take the initiative. "Neville, wouldn't you like to know who told Voldemort where your parents and grandmother were hiding? Voldemort may have had them killed, but it was someone else's doing. Someone who is close to Dumbledore..."
"How do I know this isn't a trick?"
"The Dark Lord knows that you took your parents' place in Dumbledore's little Order of the Phoenix. You know whom Dumbledore's closest to. And you know that he's far from being your biggest fan," Draco said.
"You're saying that Snape told Dumbledore where my parents were?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Daphne asked. "He has the most to lose if the Dark Lord discovers what side he's really on. So he tries to cement his loyalty by giving up the location of Dumbledore's most precious supporters."
Pansy added, "Just watch, Snape will eventually drag his greasy ass in here in order to rescue you, and then tell the Dark Lord that some random Death Eater was stupid enough to allow you to escape. He's a Slytherin, after all."
"You should be getting home," Rabastan said to the Slytherins. "It looks like you've given little Longbottom plenty to think about."
They had.
Several days later, people were still talking about Neville's disappearance. Copies of the Ministry's press release floated around the Hogwarts Express, along with the issue of the Daily Prophet that described the Deatheater attack at the Quidditch World Cup, and featured the picture of the Dark Mark in the sky.
However, Harry and his friends were in good spirits. They played exploding snap for most of the train ride, and made sure to get some candy from the trolley. Even the fact that it was raining at Hogwarts didn't dampen their spirits.
What made them feel even better was that they could see that Snape was clearly nervous. After all, the Dark Lord hadn't called him since Neville's kidnapping.
After the sorting and the feast, Dumbledore stood up to make his annual start of term speech. "First, let me assure you that the search for Mr. Longbottom is well under way, and hopefully, he will be found safe and sound."
Harry thought, 'Translation: Snape will find him and bring him back to Hogwarts, and Dumbledore will take the credit.'
"Now, I have several announcements," Dumbledore continued. "First, please welcome your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart."
The fraud stood up and waved to the assembled students. He was wearing garish turquoise robes and was flashing his even more garish smile.
After Lockhart sat down, Dumbledore said, "I have very important news. This year, we will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament here at Hogwarts. On Halloween morning, select students from two other magical schools, the Durmstrang Institute and the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, will join us. At times like this, international magical cooperation is more important than ever."
Then Dumbledore dismissed them and they headed to their dorms for the night. But like always, the majority of the older Slytherins stayed up.
Marcus Flint asked, "Did anyone go to the Quidditch World Cup?"
Harry nodded. "We went," he said, gesturing to his friends. "Draco's father managed to get us all seats in the Top Box. The match was bloody brilliant, and so was meeting the Bulgarian team."
"I hate you Black," Flint said, but without any heat. "I would kill to meet Victor Krum."
"Keep this quiet. He goes to Durmstrang, so you should be meeting him in October," Pansy said.
The talked for a bit about the Deatheater scare, but none of them really cared, since most of the students in Slytherin either supported the Dark Lord or were neutral.
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor common room, a similar conversation was taking place.
"This is so exciting!" Hermione gushed. "I can't wait to meet the people from the other schools."
"Hermione, Neville's missing," Ron snapped. "He's probably stuck in a cellar somewhere and being tortured by Deatheaters, or worse, You-Know-Who himself."
"Well, we can't do any good sitting here and sulking," Hermione said. "Dumbledore's right. We need international magical cooperation. We need to get along and make friends."
Oliver Wood said from the corner, "Don't you know what they teach at Durmstrang?" Hermione looked puzzled and shook her head. "They teach the Dark Arts. Grindelwald went to school there."
"That doesn't mean that they're all bad," Hermione argued back.
"And actually-"
"-Durmstrang kicked-"
"-Grindelwald out."
"We're not talking about Grindelwald, we're talking about You-Know-Who," Parvati Patil said. "Right now, he has Neville and that's what matters. Everyone knows that the Ministry is doing everything they can. So let's just go to bed, we can talk more in the morning."
The following day, they received their fourth-year timetables.
"Seriously, Dumbledore's been alive for over a century," Draco said. "I think he should know by now that Slytherins and Gryffindors hate each other."
Again, all of their core classes would be with Gryffindor. On Mondays and Wednesdays, they had Herbology in the morning, and History of Magic and Arithmacy after lunch. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, they had Potions and Ancient Runes before lunch and Transfiguration afterwards. Fridays, they had double Charms in the morning, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures in the afternoon. Astronomy would take place on Tuesday nights at midnight.
After breakfast, they went to Herbology, which was messy as usual. After lunch, they all took nice, long naps in History of Magic, and then enjoyed their Arithmacy class, which had certainly gotten more challenging since the previous year.
In Potions on Tuesday, Snape seemed a bit lost without his favorite student to berate, so he settled for telling all of them that they were dunderheads and that the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would make them look like idiots.
Ancient Runes was just as difficult as Arithmacy, and Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall was a treat, mainly because she always awarded plenty of points to Slytherin for Harry's spell work.
Several days later, on Friday, they all finally experienced the joy of Lockhart's class.
"I have a little test for all of you, just to see how much you know." Harry and his friends looked at each other. They had heard from other Slytherins about Lockhart's 'test'. It was basically a bunch of questions to see whether or not they were stalking him.
Upon receiving the piece of parchment, Harry jotted off a string of answers and then returned his parchment to the front.
Once Lockhart had received all of the tests, he began to read the answers, correcting people as he went. "The final question, what is Gilderoy Lockhart's ideal present. A brain." Then he did a double take. "I'm sorry, Mr. Black, that isn't correct. The correct answer is world peace."
"Well, Professor, most people don't know what they truly want. So I just wrote down something that I know you need."
Even some of the Gryffindors laughed at this.
Lockhart looked like a fish as he tried to respond to Harry's jab. He settled on continuing the lesson. "Today," he said, "I will introduce you to a creature inspires fear wherever it goes. The Cornish pixie!" He pulled the cloth off the cage on the corner of his desk, revealing nearly two dozen fluttering blue creatures the size of Harry's middle finger.
"I'm terrified," Daphne deadpanned.
"I will now release the pixies and show you the spell to counter them." Now the students looked just a bit scared. Lockhart undid the lock on the cage, and the little blue demons flew out of the cage. Lockhart began waving his wand in some kind of complex pattern that wouldn't work in a million years while bellowing, "Peskipiksi pesternomi!"
Two pixies simply seized his wand and tossed it out the window. Lockhart decided to hide under his desk.
"That wasn't even a bloody spell," Blaise huffed as the Slytherins rushed to stuff their things into their satchels. The pixies were rushing around the room, ripping the paper out of books, tearing people's parchment, and splattering ink everywhere.
Ron had been pulled up by his ears and was currently hanging from the chandelier.
"Either petrify them or stun them," Harry said to the few members of the class that weren't hiding from the rampaging creatures.
After nearly ten minutes, they managed to hunt down all of the pixies and contain with them. And then Lockhart decided to join them.
"Did you have a nice time under your desk, Professor?" Daphne asked scathingly.
Draco summoned Lockhart's wand and handed it to him. "I suggest you learn how to use this," he said.
Without another word, they turned and left the classroom.
"You can't be so rude to a professor!" they heard Granger shout from behind them.
The six of them paused and waited for her to catch up. "Oh really?" Harry asked. "What professor releases pests like that in a classroom and then tries to use a good for nothing spell to corral them? A fraud, that's what."
"Dumbledore wouldn't never hire a fraud!"
Theo said, "Oh really? Go up to the Divination Tower and have a talk with Trelawney. Now why don't you run along and find a way to get Weasley down from the chandelier?"
They then strode out onto the grounds so they could get to Care of Magical Creatures. As always, they were early.
"What's got you all so wound up?" Charlie asked.
"Lockhart's a bloody idiot," Pansy said.
"He released pixies in our class and had no clue what he was doing," Theo said. "And most of the so called Gryffindors hid while we dealt with them. Only Parvati and Dean thought of helping us."
Charlie chuckled. "I'm not surprised. I've heard more than enough stories about his incompetency this week. I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking."
"What are we studying today?" Blaise asked.
"I thought I'd bring a treat. Something easy for today, since it's the first week. We'll be going into the forest to look at the unicorns-don't look at me like that. There's a clearing, and we'll be observing them. They may even let you go up and pet them, but I won't guarantee it."
They waited for the rest of the last to arrive. Ron brought up the rear, and was gingerly rubbing his ears where they had been pinched by the pixies.
After everyone was ready, they walked for about two minutes. Sure enough, there were three unicorns there, munching on the grass.
"Try to stay quiet," Charlie said softly. "No sudden movements. Those horns aren't just there for looks." He slowly crept closer to the closest of the three. First, it looked up in alarm, but it settled back down and allowed Charlie to gently rub its side.
Eventually, other members of the class, mostly girls, stepped forward to do the same. Soon, more unicorns steeped out into the clearing and allowed students to pet them. It was magical.
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