Chapter Nine
Harry could say he was surprised when he heard Jack was the Hogwarts champion. He had heard that Jack was actually seventeen years old. Ron wasn't exactly happy when he heard a Slytherin was chosen.
Anyway, it was nothing compare to how shock he was right now when the cup glow and another sheet of paper was thrown out and Dumbledore snatched it and said, "Harry Potter". Everyone's eyes turned to him. He was stunned. He felt numbed. He was surely dreaming. He had not heard correctly.
There was no applause, no surprise there.
He was soon told to go to the room where the other champions left. He entered and saw Viktor, Fleur, and Jack by the fire. They had first thought Harry was delivering them a message, but before Harry could reply there was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room.
He took Harry by the arm and led him forward.
"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Harry's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen… lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth Triwizard champion?"
Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Jack had a disbelief look on his face. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."
"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"
Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Jack and Fleur frowned.
"But…he can't be," Jack said, shaking his head.
"Zair 'as been a mistake," Fleur said contemptuously to Bagman. "E cannot compete. 'E is too young."
"Well… it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet… I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage… It's down in the rules, you're obliged… Harry will just have to do the best he —"
The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.
"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"
Somewhere under Harry's numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy? Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.
"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.
"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions – or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"
He gave a short and nasty laugh.
"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust."
"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."
"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here -"
"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair. He was upset that Potter was there, especially when one of his students from his house had a chance. Slytherin!
Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.
"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.
"No," said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.
"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.
"No," said Harry vehemently.
"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.
"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"
"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.
"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.
"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"
She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.
"Mr. Crouch… Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"
Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.
"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."
"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.
"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."
"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"
"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"
"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"
Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.
"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody." Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.
"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out. Unless you did…" He looked at Jack, who glared.
"I didn't put his name in the cup!" Jack cried. It was enough that the Ministry complained a fourth-year student who's 17 years old competing the tournament but being accused to put someone else's name in the cup?!
"Are you sure? You are a Black and your family has a very dark connections with You-Know…" Moody growled but was interrupted when Madame Maxime said,
"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!"
"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards -"
"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but… funny thing… I don't hear him saying a word…"
"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"
"How come he entered?" Jack asked, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.
"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.
An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man… what a thing to say!"
"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons."
"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet…"
"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" Madame Maxime said, throwing up her huge hands.
"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament… I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category…"
"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is - though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously…" "There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember…"
"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Harry wondered for a moment whom he was speaking to, but then realized "Mad-Eye" could hardly be Moody's real first name. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction - Karkaroff's face was burning.
"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Jack and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do…
"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr -"
"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."
Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited.
"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"
Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.
"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes… the first task…"
He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.
"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Jack, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important.
"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.
"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."
Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore.
"I think that's all, is it, Albus?"
"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"
"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment… I've left young Weatherby in charge… Very enthusiastic… a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told…"
"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.
"Come on, Barty, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"
"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.
"Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap?" said Dumbledore.
But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Harry could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.
"Harry, Jack, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Slytherin are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."
Harry and Jack looked at each other. Jack nodded, and they left together.
"How did you do it?" Jack asked as they walked down the deserted Great Hall. "Enter I mean."
"I didn't!" Harry shook his head. "I didn't put it in. I was telling the truth."
"OK." Jack shrugged. He then noticed Harry staring at him. "What?"
"You believe me?"
"Sure, why not." Jack said. "Look, everyone is not going to be happy that you enter the tournament whether you did it or not. I'd watch out your back if I were you," he called as he walked to the other direction. "Slytherins aren't going to happy with you."
Harry stared at him for a moment before walking down the hall.
Harry watched as Hedwig flew away with a letter for Sirius on a fine Sunday morning. His thoughts went back what happened today.
Jack was right when he said everyone wasn't exactly happy that Harry was part of the Tournament. Nobody believed him when he told them that he didn't put his name in the cup. Nobody. Not even his own best friend Ron. When he went down the Gryffindor common, the whole Gryffindors cheered for him, treating him like he was some sort of hero. At least Hermione believed him.
It wasn't the best day for him.
He thought it would have improved the following day but he was wrong. He wanted to avoid the whole school but knew he couldn't avoid it when class started. He wasn't surprised when the whole school thought he put his name in the cup.
Ron still wasn't talking to him, and neither did Harry in return. Hermione tried to force those two to have conversation but they just pretended they didn't exist.
They all stood outside Hagrid's cabin. It was Care of Magical Creatures and that meant it would be the first time for Harry to come face-to-face with them since becoming a champion. He wasn't surprised when Malfoy arrived with a familiar sneer firmly in place.
"Ah, look, boys, it's the champion," Malfoy said to Crabbe and Goyle the moment he got within earshot of Harry. He then glared at the Gryffindor champion, "You didn't think fame is enough for you, Potter? You better pull out your autograph books and get a signature because I doubt he's going to be around much longer and I reckon our Slytherin champion is going to win it."
Before anyone could open their mouth, Hagrid emerged from the back of his cabin balancing a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt. To the class's horror, Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the skrewts had been killing one another was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each student to fix a leash on a skrewt and take it for a short walk. The only good thing about this plan was that it distracted Malfoy completely.
"Take this thing for a walk?" he repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. "And where exactly are we supposed to fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?"
"In the middle," Jack muttered, who was standing next to Malfoy.
"Er - yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like." Hagrid said, "Harry - you come here an' help me with this big one…" Hagrid's real intention, however, was to talk to Harry away from the rest of the class. He waited until everyone else had set off with their skrewts, then turned to Harry and said, very seriously, "So - yer competin', Harry. In the tournament. School champion."
"One of the champions," Harry corrected him.
Hagrid's beetle-black eyes looked very anxious under his wild eyebrows.
"No idea who put yeh in fer it, Harry?"
"You believe I didn't do it, then?" Harry's eyes looked hopeful.
"Course I do," Hagrid grunted. "Yeh say it wasn' you, an' I believe yeh - an' Dumbledore believes yer, an' all."
"Wish I knew who did do it," said Harry bitterly.
The pair of them looked out over the lawn; the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colorless, they had developed a kind of thick, grayish, shiny armor. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs - but still without recognizable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong and very hard to control.
"Look like they're havin' fun, don' they?" Hagrid said happily. Harry assumed he was talking about the skrewts, because his classmates certainly weren't, except maybe Jack; every now and then, with an alarming bang, one of the skrewts' ends would explode, causing it to shoot forward several yards, and more than one person was being dragged along on their stomach, trying desperately to get back on their feet.
"Ah, I don' know, Harry," Hagrid sighed suddenly, looking back down at him with a worried expression on his face. "School champion… everythin' seems ter happen ter you, doesn' it?"
The next few days were some of Harry's worst at Hogwarts. It wasn't exactly easy, especially with the Slytherins. They were nastier and threw some hexes and insults, much worse than Malfoy and that was saying something. He could understand the Slytherin's attitude even though he dislike the house and wasn't popular there. After all, the Slytherin didn't shine the whole school since Harry first came to Hogwarts and it was a chance for the Slytherins to show what they could do.
He had hoped he would get support from other Houses exclude his own but, to Harry's surprise, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws weren't supporting him either. Well, he was more surprise the Hufflepuffs were showing support to a Slytherin. Turns out, Jack put a stop to constant bullying between Slytherins and Hufflepuffs and first to second year Hufflepuffs adored him despite being Slytherin. But mostly the reason why the Hufflepuffs were supporting Jack rather than Harry was they believed Harry was an fame-seeker. The Ravenclaws even believed that.
Plus, Jack was rather handsome to the girl's eyes. Especially he was rather a gentleman and charming when he wants to be, and especially playful to first and second years. It was concluded already last month that Jack was one of the decent Slytherins. Harry scoffed a bit at that thought.
Meanwhile there was no reply from Sirius, Hedwig was refusing to come anywhere near him, Professor Trelawney was predicting his death with even more certainty than usual, and he did so badly at Summoning Charms in Professor Flitwick's class that he was given extra homework - the only person to get any, apart from Neville.
"It's really not that difficult, Harry," Hermione tried to reassure him as they left Flitwick's class - she had been making objects zoom across the room to her all lesson, as though she were some sort of weird magnet for board dusters, wastepaper baskets, and lunascopes. "You just weren't concentrating properly -"
"Wonder why that was," said Harry darkly. "Still - never mind, eh?"
He could hear a lot of whispers around them.
"Look at him!"
"Hey, where's Brena? I haven' seen her for a long while."
"I got an essay I have to work in Potions."
"Fame seeker!"
"Stop hiding!"
Few days passed and it was now the second week of November. Dueling club. It didn't end well when Harry was paired with Ron and they had threw insults each other and hexes. Harry had won but was sent to the Hospital wing together with Ron. Well, Ron was out of the Dueling tournament, Harry thought. Not that he care if he won or anything.
He stormed out of the Hospital Wing and into the courtyard. As he walked past the tree, a voice said,
"Why so tense, Potter?"
Harry stopped and looked up and could see Malfoy sitting in the tree branch, a smirk on his face. Goyle and Crabbe were leaning against the side of the tree.
"My father and I have a bet, you see. I don't think you're gonna last ten minutes in this tournament." Malfoy said and he jumped off the tree and sauntered up in front of Harry so casually. "He disagrees. He thinks you won't last five." He chuckled with Crabbe and Goyle.
Harry's eyes blaze, still frustrated from the fight with Ron, walked up to Malfoy.
"I don't give a damn what your father thinks, Malfoy!" Harry spat as he shoved him. Malfoy glared. "He's vile and cruel. And you're pathetic!" He then walked away.
"Pathetic?" Harry heard Malfoy mutter.
"Oh, no, you don't, sonny!" Moody said, who suddenly appeared at Harry's side, his wand pointed at Malfoy. Harry turned around and saw Malfoy gone and a white ferret standing in his place. He gaped at Moody.
"I'll teach you to curse when their back is turned!" Moody said as he used his wand and lifted the white ferret in the air up and down. Harry looked around and could see the crowd forming around him. "You stinkin', cowardly, scummy, back-shooting…"
Jack pushed the crowed, Daphne at his side, and he was confused when he saw Moody lifting a white ferret in the air.
"Professor Moody!" Professor McGonagall pushed the crowd and came to Harry's side. "What are you doing?!"
"Teaching." Moody replied, still bouncing the ferret up and down.
Professor McGonagall's eyes widened when a realization hit her. "Is that…Is that a student?!" Her voice incredulous.
"Technically, it's a ferret." Moody then snatched the ferret in the air and shoved it into Crabbe's pants. The whole crowd laughed as Crabbe panicked, almost jumping up and down. Goyle tried to get the ferret out of Crabbe's pants but he got bitten by it. Finally, the ferret managed to come out of it's pants as he crawled to the ground.
Professor McGonagall waved her wand and everyone watched as the white ferret turned to Draco Malfoy. His hair was way messy than the time Harry and Ron pranked. He quickly stood up and face Moody. His face then twisted to anger.
"My father will hear about this!" He cried.
"Is that a threat?" Moody growled as he started to storm dangerously towards the blonde, who quickly ran behind the tree. "Is that threat?!"
"Professor Moody!" McGonagall called as Malfoy ran around the tree. Laughter was heard and Harry couldn't help but chuckle, his anger forgotten.
"Is that a threat?!"
"Moody!"
Malfoy ran past the crowds, pushing them out of the way, his bodyguards followed him as Moody cried out, "I could tell you stories about your father that would curl even your greasy hair boy!"
"Alastor…" McGonagall's voice edge as she stood in front of Moody, blocking Malfoy's retreating form.
"It doesn't end here!"
"Alastor, we never use transfiguration as a punishment." McGonagall said, her face serious. "Surely Dumbledore told you that."
"He might have mentioned it." Moody muttered.
"Well, you will do well to remember it."
Harry chuckled as he walked away. His mood lifted as he thought about Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret. Ha! He thought.
Harry sighed, looking at his Divination homework. It was already late and his roommates were asleep. It would have been easier if he and Ron did this together. It was a lot of fine making up dreams and crazy stuff.
He frowned when he glanced at the Marauder's map. Right there was Jack Black walking out of the Hogwarts and was heading the direction to the Forbidden Forest. He hadn't seen Jack going to the Forbidden forest since the first time. He had been watching him the first whole week of September using the map but he hadn't been there since and was always at the Slytherin common room and he decided that Jack only went to the Forbidden Forest for curiosity.
Harry debated, wondering if maybe Jack was going there for curiosity or maybe for a walk. But he quickly decided against it as he picked up his Invisibility cloak and the map. He hit under the cloak and ran out of the Gryffindor common room and outside Hogwarts.
He looked at the map and saw Jack wasn't there. He knew the map couldn't show him the Forbidden forest. So he decided to follow wherever Jack was. Few hours later, he came out of the forest and decided to wait for Jack to come.
For a moment, Harry's eyes met Jack's—a sharp, hot pain shot across his scar on Harry's forehead. He almost cried out but managed to hold it as Jack entered inside Hogwarts. He took a deep breath as the pain went away and looked up and could see Jack's shadow disappearing as he round off the corner.
What the hell?! Harry thought.
Author's Note: You forgotten had you? *grins widely* I mean, it was hinted last chapter and I had to explain here that Harry had watched Jack a week after he first saw Jack entering the forest but Jack hadn't been there for a whole week so Harry dismissed it. And we got the scene with the whole Malfoy turned to a ferret. You fans might notice some scenes are missing, because it is not, it's just arranged. You might have noticed there wasn't a potion class scene just after Harry left Charms class. Anyway, I just came back from vacation with no internet for 2 days and I had promise I'll update in saturday. ;) I just got into fanfics about Harry sent back in the Marauder's Time and I love reading "Ripples in Time" - especially some kind of paternal Voldemort ;) Genius!.
Oh. P.S – Jack, in the fanfic, is DIFFERENT. I'm trying to make my fanfic unique and go in a different direction and angle. That's my last note.
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Reply to Reviews
Natekleh - *blinks* Is that what you are all thinking? With him gone, Jack might take his place? I'm rather surprised. Well, we'll just wait and see. And anyway, why would Jack NOT put his name in the cup? To him, it is challenging. And fun! *winks playfully* How could Jack not take the opportunity for a good challenge and fun? Plus, it brings a chance to glory the Slytherin house. Hehehe. Still, we'll see how it goes. I admit I haven't fully written the whole story but I'm getting to the end.
Chiara Dello - Hahaha. I suppose half of you expect him to enter the Tournamenet.
Infinityworlds - It does a bit.
Tori Root - Reading your review. Wow. I mean, really thanks so much. Yeah, that is my main goal. To keep Jack a mysterious character for the audience, especially following through Harry's POV. I admit that the Triwizard Tournament is not my main focus and I hardly care how much points Jack won. But thank my brother for convincing me that you all guys need excitement and you all just love to see how Jack handles the task. I love the Slytherins (in fact, I would beg the Sorting Hat to sort me there) ! But I still make sure they have some cunning, ulterior motives. Hahaha. The way you said it made me realize how Jack did lighten the atmosphere in the Slytherin house. I still wish to focus writing Jack's POV through out this but I have to keep him mysterious. Wow! I love reading your theories! I never know what you guys are really thinking. Thx so much! I admit some made me blink in surprise. The interactions between the Golden Trio and Jack, they had actually. But of course not outside class, it's mostly class. I just never bothered writing it. Like I said, Chapter 6 contains A LOT of original scenes (It is set mostly in September and the beginning of October. Estimated words: 10,000 words) and I have ideas but at that time I had been so troubled I had decided to come back and rewrite Chapter 6 in the future. ACTUALLY Draco had made a bet with Harry whoever wins the Quidditch, they'll do him a favor. Jack had of course been part of the bet and of course teams with the Slytherins and Malfoy while Harry, Ron and the rest of the Gryffindor team. I honestly didn't bother writing the game scene but now that you gave me a thought that you all want to see Jack fly (in a broom), I'll come back and edit Chapter 6 sometime in the future. I admit your ideas made me blink in surprise and the whole barefoot thing made me blink once again and mentally slap myself "Why the hell have I not think of that?!". That idea was wonderful. I'm giving that credit to you. Right now, the only thing I have left to say to you is "You'll be surprise". *winks playfully* Thx!
P.P.S - Plz review. And see ya on Thursday!
Finished Date: 4/17/15. 5:53pm
