HYESTR-10

Chapter 10: It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

I.

The cinema was mostly empty by the time Fleur and Harry left the screening. They were walking together at the back of the crowd, as Fleur said, "That was… quite something. I never expected that muggles could make something so, beautifuland heart-breaking at the same time."

"It's pretty good," said Harry, as they made their way down the street towards the observatory. "Musicals aren't really my genre. But French New Wave on the other hand… Anyway. The observatory should be just up here."

"You said this was from another picture?"

"Yeah," Harry said. He was wearing a red jacket whilst Fleur wore her blue, Beauxbatons uniform. She had gotten a lot of attention from most of the cinema-goers to the point where it was almost becoming unbearable, but once the film started that was enough to keep everyone's attention drawn on it. "I mean, it's modelled after Rebel Without a Cause. I think, anyway. It's a great film, actually."

"You seem to watch a lot of these films."

"Well, I'm not exactly the most popular person around here, so I kind of have to have a hobby," said Harry with a shrug. They were almost at the steps of the observatory, which was a short walk away from the cinema itself. The town they were in was a few miles from Hogsmeade but had an apparition point just outside and out of reach of any prying muggle eyes. "Come on," he said, leading her through it and into the main room after handing the nearby guard an admission fee. There were few other people in the observatory, and it was a mostly quiet affair between the two of them. "And… here we are."

Harry lead her into the room where the stars were lit up, covering most of the ceiling. It wasn't of course as real or authentic as the night sky in the Hogwarts Great Hall, but it had a touch of nostalgia about it that Harry liked, a faux-American feel in a very British town. Fleur said, "It's quite… surreal. To see all these stars up close. They always seem so distant."

"Well, well, well," said a voice from behind Harry and Fleur suddenly, snapping them out of the brief moment that they shared getting lost in the entrancing spell of the observatory. "If it isn't Harry Potter. I thought I told you about this. Miss Delacour. This is Hogwarts business. You should leave now, for you own sake."

"I think I'm fine right here, thank you, Monsieur Davis," said Fleur. "I do not need to be told who to speak to."

"You don't, you can speak to whoever you want," said Roger Davis. "But Harry Potter on the other hand… he is of Ravenclaw, and whilst he is a member of Ravenclaw, he answers to me."

"Forgive me, I have not been at Hogwarts long, but," said Fleur, "I have been able to inspect enough of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin to know that a similar structure is not followed there. Why should Ravenclaw be any different?"

"Because it always has been," said Roger Davis. "There has always been someone looking out for other members of Ravenclaw, making sure that they don't get into trouble. And that someone is me. I just want to do best by my house, that's all. And trust me, it would only be an embarrassment for you if you were to talk to Potter."

"But I do not feel embarrassed."

He scowled at Fleur, and Harry almost thought that Davis would throw a hex, but with the amount of muggles in the room it would break the statue of secrecy immediately. "Potter. If this is how it's going to be, and you are cowardly enough to avoid fighting with me in a magical area… Then how about we use muggle methods?"

He pulled out a short knife from his pocket, and Harry looked at him, almost bemused. "Do you know how to use that?"

"Don't talk like that to me, Potter," said Davis. Thankfully for them the nearest muggle was not paying any attention whatsoever, too busy in their own mind. He left the room just as Roger advanced, and Harry couldn't help but retreat around the back of the observatory towards the exit, Fleur in tow with him. "You have overstepped your boundaries and you must suffer the consequences as a result. A few cuts should do the job quite nicely."

"Who does he think he is?" whispered Fleur as they backed away from him. "He's mad. A muggle could walk in at any second!"

"Don't worry about that," Davis said. "You see, I am of age and the trace does not apply to me. I was able to distract them from the current situation. Now normally I would use a wand, but… knives are so much more interesting, are they not?"

"What's happened to you Davis? Are you sure you're alright?" Harry asked, stepping over a desk as he walked backwards, away from the older Ravenclaw, who lashed out. "You've never done something like this before."

He snorted. "Remember Peter Dawkins last year? The boy they found with three cuts on his wrist?"

"Yeah, everyone thought he was harming himself, and he got sent to St. Mungos for self-evaluation," Harry explained for Fleur. "Didn't come back this year. Wait a second, that, was you?"

"Of course," said Davis. Harry wondered how he managed to sneak this bullying under the nose of the likes of Dumbledore and Flitwick, but if a Basilisk could live for ages undetected in Hogwarts Castle, it didn't seem too much of a leap to make that deduction. After all, Davis likely had several people likely to take his side of the story and provide an alibi should anybody ever talk to a Professor, which was something that Harry had known all too well in the past. "Now it will be a bit harder for you given that you come from a magical background, but we can certainly make you disappear. But it can be done."

"Cover your ears," whispered Fleur to Harry as they backed against a wooden door. Harry nodded, understanding that when a Veela told him to do something it should be done, and you did not want a pissed off Veela as your enemy. Harry clasped both hands over his ears and held them tight as he could, and Fleur yelled as loudly as she could. In fact, it wasn't a yell, it was more of a screech, a high-pitched, soundwave breaking screech that resounded around the room with such a force that the unprotected Roger Davis was sent blasted back across the room. It was a focused sonic boom that Harry had only seen something similar before in muggle comics and science fiction, having never witnessed the hidden power of a Veela up close and personal. He could only grin in response as Fleur lead the way around Davis, who was reeling in agony. He was more than willing to let Fleur take charge of the situation, after all, this meant that he could get away without using his skills that would instantly lead people to expect that he was more than what he appeared. Fleur led him out of the room and into the next corner as alarms began to echo around the Museum, and using her allure to keep the guards out of focus and distracted, Fleur and Harry were able to slip past them as though they were never there. All they would remember was a vague description of a woman who looked too good to be real, which would not help them at all.

After the two were firmly out of sight of the Observatory as the first muggle police cars began to pull up at the building to investigate the damage and loud noise complaints, Harry and Fleur ducked behind a back alley and relaxed, taking deep, long breaths from exhaustion. "That was brilliant," said Harry, in awe at Fleur's powers. "I've never actually seen anyone do something quite like that before."

"Veelas aren't meant to use their power," said Fleur. "It's meant to be kept secret. Now Davis knows. And you know. That's two people more than necessary."

"Hey, it's not as if I'm going to be able to tell anyone, right?" Harry said with a smirk. "Besides, it's pretty awesome. Ever read a comic book before?"

"No," she said. "I told you I'm not good with muggle things."

"Just making sure," said Harry. "But you reminded me of Black Canary. She's a superhero with a sonic boom power. Much like yours. She saves the world. Multiple times."

"Fleur Delacour, saviour of the world," she said with a smile. "I could get used to that. Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"You have my word," said Harry. "And I think it's highly unlikely that Davis will be willing to admit to anyone that he got beaten by a girl, so I think we should be safe anyway. Well, you should be."

"What's he going to do to you?" said Fleur, worried.

"Nothing that I can't handle," said Harry. "I can't believe him. He went full on crazy for a second there, almost like he was taking things too far. I wonder what pushed him."

"I guess it was just one bad day," said Fleur. "And considering that he's already a bad person…"

"It was amplified," said Harry, nodding, and noticing that by now it was well into the afternoon and the evening. "We should get back soon. They're going to announce the Triwizard Winners tomorrow afternoon and I still need to enter."

"You like to leave things to the last minute, don't you?" Fleur said, smiling, her gloves hands leaning up to her face to brush her hair out of her eyesight. "Well in that case, Mr. Potter. After you."

II.

It was empty in the room of the Goblet when Harry Potter arrived alone, having said farewell to Fleur after a largely quiet dinner. Staff hadn't realised that Roger Davis was currently in the local jail awaiting further questioning just yet, but his absence at dinner was a hotly debated topic that was very much discussed. Harry had made sure that nobody was around when he approached the Goblet and put his name in the cup, and was relieved to see that it was accepted without further difficulty. He didn't go for the dramatic approach like the Weasley twins whose attempts at entering, given that they were a few months younger than Harry was, and they had ended up with beards as a result. He had managed to cast his name in the hat and enter, with the flair sounding up protecting his name. However, as he finished, he turned around to see that someone had in fact, been watching him all the time.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, somewhat nervously. "I didn't see you there."

"It is quite often that one caught up in doing something that they shouldn't forgets to properly observe their immediate surroundings," said Dumbledore, approaching Harry. "I must admit, Harry. You are most certainly very brave to defy your parents' wishes. I assume you will not try to reconcile with them once you are struck from the family tree?"

"If it were up to me I wouldn't have been put in this position in the first place," said Harry. "Forgive me, Professor."

"I fear I have made you an outcast in proclaiming Samuel to be The Boy Who Lived. Please forgive a foolish old man, it was not my intention," said Dumbledore. "I had no idea that Lily and James would treat you like they have done. You must know, I tried to talk your parents out of this threat of denunciation, but I fear my skills at persuasion were not as they once were."

"It wasn't your fault, Professor. You had no idea how they would react," said Harry, honestly. Although Dumbledore might have predicted the level of fame that James and Lily would receive after this, he would have no way of knowing how they would have reacted. After all, given how well James and Lily had treated the siblings before the incident, they had no idea as to how badly they might push one to the side.

"Thank you for not holding a grudge against me, Harry. It is much appreciated," said Dumbledore. "I have been informed about the incident concerning Roger Davis and his lack of appearance at the dinner table, and that he is currently to the best of my knowledge, staying overnight in a muggle prison, for, if I am correct in assuming the vandalization of a certain observatory? A pity. That was a favoured place of mine in my youth. It was new back then, of course. I'm surprised it lasted this long."

Harry didn't see fit to attempt to correct Dumbledore for this because he got the feeling that The Headmaster already knew the full details about the events that had transpired there. "So, you're going to get Davis back, sir?"

"Oh, I think I suppose I'll have to, at some point," said Dumbledore, with a sigh. "But given his various, shall we say, alleged actions against multiple students of this school it is entirely reasonable to… delay our response. Say, twenty-four hours?"

Harry smiled. "He's going to react to this, you know that."

"Unfortunately I cannot do anything about it," said Dumbledore. "I have to let the situation resolve itself this time, Harry. My hands are tied. I need the unanimous vote of the school boards to expel a student, and with Davis' father as part of the board…"

"It's never going to happen," said Harry, running his hand through his hair in mutual frustration. "But at least this is his last year. He'll be gone by the end."

"At least we all have that to look forward to," said Dumbledore, turning away as he began to walk out the door. The Professor cast an eye back at Harry and their eyes met for a second, as he felt the gaze of the Old Man as though he was starring right through him. He didn't say anything until he was halfway out the door, where the Headmaster added, "Also, how is Professor Lupin these days? I have not heard from him in a while. Were his travels to Germany… successful?"

"Unfortunately not, Headmaster," said Harry, in shock, realising that Dumbledore must have found out about his visit to Grindelwald and put the pieces together. But why hadn't he said anything? Why hadn't the Old Man exposed Harry as the Man in the Suit, or had Lupin arrested for even being seen in the same country as one of the most feared Dark Wizards of all time? Either he had ulterior motives, or Dumbledore knew that Harry was doing his best to do the right thing and had not intervened on purpose.

Albus Dumbledore was the one person who Harry had never truly understood. He could pin down the most basic concept of the man and his ideals like everybody else, but beyond that, perhaps even to himself, there was a mystery that was waiting to be answered. "Well. I wish you the best of luck. If you ever need any help in the future, Harry, either with the upcoming Tournament or your extra circular activities, my door is always open. And one last piece of advice… you used to wear glasses, did you not?"

"I did."

"It might be a good idea to start wearing them again. The disguise worked for Clark Kent, did it not?"

Harry smiled, surprised at the fact that Dumbledore was familiar with Superman in enough capacity to know his disguise.

III.

At night, Harry dreamed. He dreamed of a world where his world was a lie, a world where –

- "There never was any magic," said the man who had introduced himself as Dr. Lance. Harry had never got a surname from him, but everything about the man screamed wrong. WrongWrongWrongWrongWrong, he was telling himself over and over, and he wasn't sure whether he was answering the claim or questioning the legitimacy of the room itself. "This is important for you to understand, Harry. Here. You talk about a wand. It was found with you in the Graveyard. Phoenix feather, if I am correct? Remarkable, considering there is no record of Phoenixes ever having existed at all outside of fiction. Here, Harry. I want you to have this. Just to prove that magic is not real. Maybe once it is proven, we can start… addressing the elephant in the room."

"There isn't an elephant, Doctor," said Harry. "I don't see one."

"A figure of speech," said Dr. Lance. "Your brain is scrambled. We hope to unscramble it. Now, you have your so-called magic wand. Go ahead. Wave it. Try something. See that it is authentic, and see that it is the very own stick that we found you with. Confirm for me."

"It's mine," said Harry, recognising the core of the wand. He pointed it at the man. "Stupefy."

Nothing happened. There was no jet of red blasting out of the wand, no flare of magic that sent the man blasting across the room. And for the first time, in all his years, Harry felt well and truly alone. Drenched in fear and sweat, he-

Awoke, panting and in shock at the dream that had just conspired. It was the same one. Who had ever heard of people having the same dream that simply told a story over consecutive nights? Nobody. The story was becoming so real. There were mentions of a Graveyard where he had been found by an apparent Dr. Lance. He was putting together a web of notes on the wall of the dream to remind him of what was coming, with rough sketches of what the people looked like. Using muggle pencils of course, he couldn't imagine if the drawings suddenly came to life. So far there was the nameless man. Elizabeth. Dr. Lance. Three men, all scientists, or all believed to be scientists, and all were connected.

Then there was the Graveyard that he had been found in with the wand. What Graveyard? There was no Graveyard on Hogwarts, the only student to ever have died here was buried at home with her parents, so it had to be another Graveyard, that much was certain. Maybe the one in Godric's Hollow near where he had grown up with his parents? There were to many questions. He worried what might happen when the story reached its end, when his dreams – or his visions, ran out of things to tell him. There was also a big question mark concerning Grindelwald and Dumbledore, who had names up on the mind-map as well, as to what they knew. Lupin hadn't properly been able to go into depth about the events that had transpired there, and Dumbledore could know more about the Spear as well. And then there was Voldemort to take into account, or more accurately Tom Riddle and his diary. There were so many unanswered questions that it hurt Harry, and that was before he even got to the map of Salazar Slytherin, which was suddenly alerting him to another name, a name that was for the first time was not one of muggle origin. It was a pureblood.

And it was Roger Davis.

IV.

The ceremony didn't take place until the afternoon so there was still plenty of time to figure out the threat to Roger Davis was, or whether he was threatening somebody. He didn't know the full extent as to how the map worked but only presumed that he would be in danger from something. Harry had thought about letting events unfold and not intervening, but a conversation with the nameless portrait in Slytherin's chamber changed his mind. "What if Davis is in danger because someone he persecuted decided to overreact? Would that person be able to live with the consequences if they were say, driven to murder?"

"Depends on the person," said Harry with a shrug.

"Think about it," said the painting. "The map can't alert you to that person because it doesn't think they're in any particular danger. It does the next best thing by picking out the target of the person, so thereby, if you save Davis… you save the person who needs saving. And on top of that, Davis owes you a debt."

So this was why Harry found himself outside of the entrance hall, carefully concealed behind two knights in metal armour as it was pushed open by both Davis and Hagrid, who had obviously been the one to collect him. "Now, hopefully that'll teach yeh a lesson."

"It wasn't me!" protested Davis, walking away from Hagrid. "How many times do I have to tell you people before you understand? It wasn't me!"

"Then tell Professor Dumbledore about it," said Hagrid. "I can't do anything for yeh here. Above my paygrade, as it were. Besides. It was yer own fault in the first place. Shouldn't have gone meddling in places yeh don't know."

"When my father hears about this," Davis protested, and Harry rolled his eyes. Clearly the Ravenclaw had picked up something from Draco Malfoy, but after a careful decision not to hex him there and then, he let the self-appointed protector of Ravenclaw Tower wonder off from Hagrid down a corridor. Staying in the shadows, Harry followed him, careful to keep hidden, knowing that the attack could come at any time and from anywhere.

"STUPEFY!" a loud shout, a male voice, suddenly from behind a nearby cupboard. To Davis' credit, he fought back but the teenager whose name Harry took a moment to recall – Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff of all people, in his brother's year, was unleashing spell after spell at the Ravenclaw. "Aqua Erecto!"

A blast of water shot out at Justin, almost soaking him but apart from that not doing much harm as Davis panicked. Seizing the initiative, Justin shouted, casting a hex that instantly caused Davis to clutch his head in pain as horns spurted on his head. "Anteoculatia!"

Whilst Davis was in pain, Justin then used the nearby metal knights to pin Davis against the wall, creating clamps to hold him in place. It was clear that Davis had overestimated the raw anger of Justin Finch-Fletchley and how he had been driven to hatred by countless torment. "Justin!" Harry suddenly chose this moment to intervene before things escalated, stepping out from the shadows just as Justin cast a spell that delivered a vicious cut to Davis' cheek. "Justin, Justin! Wait!"

"You!" Justin turned his wand on Harry after collecting Davis's, keeping Davis' wand trained on Harry. "You're in league with him!"

"Oh come on," said Harry. "That's not true. Look. Justin. For a second here. He's been targeting me pretty much ever since I've got to Hogwarts but I'm here to tell you something. As much as you want to do this, it's going to be a mistake."

"Who are you to decide my choices? Do you know what he's done to me? For the past four years? It's too. Much. I can't take it anymore, and the Headmaster isn't doing anything about it!" Justin said, his hands shaking over his wand. "Something has to be done!"

"Four years? Try six years," said Harry. "You think I don't want to kill him as well? Inflict severe pain over him? Get six years' worth of revenge? You think I, or someone else, wouldn't have done that already?"

"You're weak," said Justin. "You're not brave enough."

"Oh, I think you'll find I'm perfectly capable of killing him," said Harry. "But that's not the point. The point is you have to show him something. That you're better than him. That you won't sink to his level. Take the high ground here."

"You think that'll stop the pain? The only way I can stop it is…"

"Killing the king," said Davis, with a smile. "But you haven't got it in you, have you Justin? You can't do it. You're too much of a coward."

"Davis, you're not helping," Harry scolded him. "For once in your life, be smart. Now. Justin. You're fully prepared to kill Davis here, do you think you'll be able to live with what comes next? The consequences? That's an instant life imprisonment in Azkaban for any use of an unforgivable. Not just an expulsion. You're what, fourteen? That's a lot of time to spend behind bars. You remember the dementors don't you?"

"I do," said Justin, thinking back to third year. "They were horrible. It was hell the whole year."

"Now imagine that for the rest of your life. Every day waking up to the same old feeling, knowing that no matter what you do there can be no escape," said Harry. "There's no trial. I'm a witness, after all. I'll be able to testify against you. You won't get out of it and they'll lock you away. As bad as it is now, Roger's going to be gone in the summer. That's what, under a year to put up with him? Even less if you go back home for Christmas. So, consider it for a second."

Justin was clearly wrestling with the choices, whilst Roger Davis sat their clutching the horns on his head that had grown as part of the hex that he had been hit with. They would be there for the rest of the day according to the spell, which was something that was all the more amusing for Harry. "Alright," said Justin after a while, pulling back his wand and putting it in his pocket, reluctantly. He was shaking with nervousness and Harry could tell that. "Sorry, um, Davis. It won't happen again."

Davis was too stunned by the fact that somebody had just attempted to kill him and had almost succeeded. The shock of the danger had just hit him and he too, was shaking. "Potter…"

"Yes Davis?"

"Thank you."

Harry was about as shocked by this comment as he had been by the fact that someone was Justin Finch-Flenchley was capable of murder. "Um," Davis added, "Can you let me down?"

"On one condition," said Harry.

"Name it. I think you've earned it," said Davis.

"Never again."

He didn't have to elaborate what he was talking about for Davis to understand. He knew that he'd gone too far, the anger that he'd been caught up with earlier in the day had long since vanished and he'd been replaced by a new sense of regret. For what he had done. Davis nodded, not saying another word, as Harry used his wand to let Davis down. "I can't do anything about the horns," said Harry. "You'll have to live with them for a bit."

"I think I deserve it," said Davis, climbing to his feet. "Shit. Hey. Justin. For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I'll bet you are," said Justin, and turned to storm off in the distance after mumbling a quick "thanks" at Harry. As he left Harry noticed a Durmstrang student approach Justin to see if he was alright, but he paid no attention to the ensuing conversation at all, instead, wrapped up in what he had just done. He had just saved Roger Davis' life, someone who had given him hell his entire time at Hogwarts. He could have easily have just let Roger die, there and then. But then, the consequences for Justin in particular would have proved unimaginable, especially for a fourteen-year-old. He had to remind himself that he had notjust saved Roger's life. He had also saved Justin's in the process.

V.

It was the afternoon of the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament champions, and there was a sense of activity and excitement in the air at Hogwarts. Roger Davis had called a personal meeting amongst his followers to disband his group having apparently become a completely changed person following his actions, and as a result Harry and others like him had enjoyed more freedom than they had ever done before. At least four people had come up to talk to Harry and to thank him for having an influence on getting Davis to relax his bullying, and already he was finding it easier to fit into Hogwarts life, not feeling like an outcast anymore.

By the time the meal was being hosted, the school was feeling incredibly optimistic. Angelina Johnson was the Gryffindor Champion. Marcus Flint was the clear Slytherin favourite. Cedric Diggory held a similar position not just in Hufflepuff, according to the odds laid down by Fred and George Weasley, but the entire school, and Ravenclaw was a bit less even. A clear favourite before the event had been Roger Davis, but he had asked to be personally withdraw from the competition and would not compete even if his name was selected regardless of the consequences, saying that he didn't feel worthy to represent Hogwarts, and there was no clear Ravenclaw Champion. "I think it's going to be Aaron Gibbs-Chamberlain," Cho Chang was saying over the table, glancing to a blonde Ravenclaw student sat in the corner. Harry was sat next to her, and for once, Cho was not looking at him out of pity. In another lifetime, maybe they could have been friends. "I don't know. I'd like it to be someone from Ravenclaw and now that Roger's out, he feels like the next best possible choice."

"You're only saying that because you have a crush on him," said Marietta Edgecombe. "Wait until Diggory finds out. He'll be disappointed."

"What?"

"Didn't you know," Marietta said. "Diggory's got a crush on you. He told my boyfriend Erik last night."

"You don't have a boyfriend," said Cho, blushing, but couldn't help but gaze over at the Hufflepuff table, finding that Diggory's eyes had been caught lingering on her for more than a few seconds. He smiled awkwardly upon being caught, and looked away.

"So come on," Marietta said. "What do you think?"

"Maybe," said Cho, as Harry started to regret sitting next to the two of them at all, their conversation boring him. He was half tempted to throw in a reference to Dr. Strangelove and get them to leave him alone, but after all, he couldn't complain. He wasn't being persecuted anymore. "Hey. They're about to announce the champions."

The school descended into a hushed silence as the Goblet of Fire changed colour to signify its closure and the fact that no more name could be submitted. The Great Hall was as full as it had been on the night of the arrival of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students with extra Ministry Staff, James Potter and Sirius Black among them, James no doubt here to make sure that his son didn't enter the tournament. It was Ludo Bagman – who Harry vaguely recognised as some famous Quidditch commentator, a typical showboater in an extravagant uniform. "Ahem," Bagman said. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming here tonight! Tonight, the future is decided. Tonight, three of our best and brightest are chosen from the Goblet of Fire! They will face unimaginable hardships, unimaginable tasks in the quest of the greatest prize of all! Now, those of you who are of age have cast their vote, stepped across the age line, and you know, there is no going back from here."

The room was in complete silence, captivated by Bagman's every word. "In a few moments, I will have the first name from the goblet. I will ask the champion to proceed into the room at the back, where they will meet with their respective Head of School to discuss the tournament and their participation. I repeat… in a few moments, I will have the first name from the goblet."

He cleared his throat. Every eye in the Great Hall, including both of Moody's, was on the Goblet of Fire. A few moments of silence overcame the hall before a paper flared up, and Bagman caught it in his hands and unravelled. "The Champion from Durmstrang is… Viktor Krum!"

Applause, and whispers, mostly from students acknowledging that this was of no surprise in the slightest, followed Krum as he climbed to his feet, walked past Bagman, giving the announcer a handshake before passing into the room at the back where his Headmaster had proceeded to join him. The Goblet changed colour again before only a few moments later flaring up once more. Bagman unfolded the note once again and read, "The Champion from Beauxbatons… is Fleur Delacour!"

Harry joined in with the applause this time that followed most of the Fleur as she climbed up from the rest of the Ravenclaw students. Now this was it. The moment of truth that would determine Harry's future at Hogwarts was mere seconds away from being announced, and the entirety of Hogwarts was on edge for this event. The Goblet lit up for a third time, and Bagman caught the third name in his hand. By this point, Fleur and Krum were in the private room with Madame Maxime and Igor Karkaroff having followed them. The remaining Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were a mix between emotionless, optimistic and clearly distraught – a few were even weeping that they were not chosen. "And now, last but not least," Bagman announced. "The Champion from Hogwarts is… Harry Potter."

A moment of stunned silence filled the room as various heads turned to Harry. People were starting to recognise him as different from his brother, Samuel, and now this would be the final straw that crushed his anonymous presence around Hogwarts for good. Upon Dumbledore's suggestion, he was wearing his glasses, and had to readjust them slightly as he climbed to his feet, feeling the distinct lack of applause around the room. He could feel James' eyes firmly fixed on him, a cold, distant and emotionless look that displayed no hint of warmth or gratitude to him whatsoever, and as he made his way to the room at the back, it took a full two minutes after everyone had applauded the previous champions for applause to break out, and it came from a few clusters of support from the various houses. His brother and his sister both applauded and half of Gryffindor followed their lead as a result, and then from Hufflepuff, Justin Finch-Fletchley led the applause for his house. Seconds later, Roger Davis too, joined in, and then the whole of Hogwarts house was applauding for their Champion.

The distinct lack of response from his father was the most telling one of all, however, as Harry made his way past him. He sensed as he made his way into the room that this would almost certainly be his last full day as a member of the Potter Household.

"Harry!" Fleur smiled warmly as he entered the room. Harry nodded at Fleur, who was standing next to Viktor Krum. Krum approached Harry and shook his hand, and Harry returned the gesture. Fleur and Harry both hugged each other, a display of affection that was not ignored by Madame Maxime, who gave Fleur a 'We'll take about this later' look.

"So, what happens now?" Harry couldn't help but ask somewhat awkwardly after a few moments of silence had descended amongst the room.

He sensed that Krum was about to say something but before the Quidditch player could comment, the door opened for the fourth time, and in stepped Harry's brother, Samuel, and even before he said anything, Harry knew that there was something wrong. "Samuel? Are you alright?"

"Um. Yes," Samuel said, nervously, sweating, and clearly out of his depth with the older students in the room. "Well. Not really. They just… announced a fourth champion. And, uh. It's me."

TO BE CONTINUED…