Thank you to everyone that reviewed. I'm nearly at 100 reviews YAY! Anyway, I decided to post another chapter early. Also thank you to everyone that answered my question and suggested ideas to make it better.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Harry thumped down the stairs, trunk and several T-shirts that he hadn't packed yet in hand. He set the trunk at the bottom of the stairs, dumped his shirts on top and went off in search of Remus, who would be taking him to Kings Cross Station.
He heard rustling in the living room so entered, smiling slightly as he saw what Remus was doing, he was trying, with difficulty to reach a rather large spider web in the corner of the room, wielding the feather duster like it was a lethal weapon. Grinning, Harry crept up on Remus, standing directly behind him.
"What are you doing?"
Remus shrieked and dropped the feather duster, almost falling off the chair on which he had been standing and turning to glare at Harry. Harry chuckled and moved out of the way as Remus tried to ruffle his hair, knowing that he wouldn't get it right again all day.
"Harry James Potter, don't scare me like that!" said Remus, clambering down from the chair and holding his chest.
"Sorry." said Harry, not looking sorry at all.
Remus rolled his eyes and gently cuffed Harry upside the head. Automatically, Harry flinched, thinking that Remus was going to strike him. Remus looked stricken, regretting his actions immediately.
"Oh Merlin Harry, I'm sorry." said Remus, looking horrified.
"Its' fine Uncle Remus." said Harry, raising his eyebrows.
Remus shook his head but said nothing, feeling horribly guilty for making Harry flinch like that. He knew that it was an automatic reaction, seeing something come out of nowhere but it didn't stop the guilt bubbling like acid. He should have known, that coming from an abusive and neglectful family, that Harry would be nervous of things like that. Harry had come on in leaps and bounds since the beginning of his third year and it was easy to forget that he was still a hurt child.
He was interrupted from his musings by Harry tugging at his sleeve, looking concerned. Shaking himself, Remus made sure Harry had all of his belongings, promising to send anything on should he forgot and pulled out the specially made portkey, ready for them to go to Kings Cross.
Arriving at their destination, trunk, broomstick and Hedwig's cage in hand, Remus started pushing the trolley towards the barrier between nine and ten, looking around to make sure nobody was looking. Harry followed shortly after, a huge smile spreading across his face as he breathed in the familiar sooty smell of the steam locomotive.
"Now, don't forget to write and stay out of trouble, I don't want any owls saying you've locked Professor Snape in a broom cupboard or given Malfoy a black eye."
Harry raised his eyebrows at his guardian, since when would he lock Snape in a cupboard? Or give Malfoy a black eye? On second thoughts, maybe he should take Remus' advice.
"I know, I know." said Harry, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
"I mean it Harry, no late night adventures, no sneaking out to Hogsmeade and definitely no drinking." said Remus, fighting to stay stern at Harry's blank expression.
"Yes Uncle Remus, do you really expect me to drink alcohol? Sirius let me have a sip of his firewhiskey once, I hated it." said Harry, screwing his face up at the memory.
"Did he now?" said Remus, sounding rather amused, making a mental note to talk to him about giving a fourteen year old alcohol.
"Well, I guess I'll see you at Christmas then?" said Remus, smiling down at Harry, who was obviously itching to get on the train and find his friends.
"Yeah, see you Uncle Remus." said Harry, trying and failing to heave his trunk up onto the train.
"Here let me."
Together, they managed to heave it onto the train and into an empty compartment, Harry was just in the process of turning to say goodbye to Remus, when a shout from further down the train caught his attention. He would recognize that voice anywhere, he thought, grinning madly. Sure enough, as he turned round, he spotted his two best friends racing down the corridor towards him, big smiles in place.
"HARRY!" Hermione screamed, jumping into his arms and squeezing the life out of him.
"Nice to see you Hermione." Harry chuckled, hugging his friend back.
"How you doing?" said Ron, grinning at Harry after Hermione had let him go.
"Not too bad, yourself?" said Harry, a warm feeling spreading through his body at the sight of his best friends.
"Well I had better be off, behave yourself and don't forget to write." said Remus, smiling.
"I know, see you at Christmas." said Harry, giving Remus a quick squeeze before darting into the compartment, Ron and Hermione close behind him.
Remus stepped off the train, just as the whistle sounded and the train began moving, soon leaving the sprawling city to be replaced by endless countryside. Hermione curled up on her seat, a thick book in her lap, eyes glued to the page. Ron was leaning against the compartment wall, feet spread across the seat, nudging Hermione every now and then. Harry was watching out of the window as the countryside became wilder and the weather wetter.
Soon, Ron became bored so they engaged in a game of exploding snap, which caused Hermione to glare at them, which they of course ignored. At around noon, the lunch lady came trundling along with the trolley and Harry brought them pumpkin pasties and a pile of chocolate frogs to share between the three of them.
The game only stopped when the card deck Ron had been building exploded and singed Hermione's shoes, eliciting a shouting match that could be heard four compartments down. Harry sat back in his seat and watched fondly as his friends argued, Ron turning and raising his eyebrows every now and then.
Harry had found himself feeling closer to Ron and Hermione than ever before, after everything, finding out his parents were betrayed, finding out he had a godfather and his illness, they had been there through it all, like best friends should, the thought put a big smile on his face, even after three years of friendship, he still felt immensely lucky to have friends like Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Harry's happy bubble deflated slightly with the appearance of Draco Malfoy, flanked by his thug bodyguards-Crabbe and Goyle.
"Well well well, if it isn't Potty, Weasel and the mudblood." snarled Malfoy.
"Get out Malfoy." Harry snapped, standing up with his wand pointed in his face.
"Oh, not in a friendly mood I see." said Malfoy, smirking at the three glaring occupants.
"Been a fluffy bunny recently Malfoy?" said Harry coolly, crossing his arms.
Malfoy flushed and glared at Harry, a sneer curling on his lips. He stepped forwards, getting in Harry's face and said in a deadly whisper-
"You want to watch out Potter, you never know when can catch you unawares."
"Is that so? Well if that is all could you please get out? You're leaving a funny smell in here." said Harry, tucking his wand away and raising his eyebrows at Malfoy, causing Ron and Hermione to snicker openly.
Flushing, Malfoy whirled around, his two goons lumbering after him, with a shout of "My father will hear about this."
"I look forward to it." Harry called to Malfoy's retreating back.
Snickering, they spent the rest of the journey chatting and eating sweets. Eventually, the lights flickered on overhead and the countryside outside grew darker and darker, until all you could see was the outlines of the huge mountains. They changed into their robes and clambered off of the train, moving with the throng of students, all intent in getting into the warm and dry, slipping and sliding their way to the coaches that would take them to Hogwarts.
Being buffeted by the wind, Harry, Ron and Hermione clung to each other as they fought the torrential downpour and gale force wind in attempt to get to a carriage. After almost knocking a second year to the ground, they reached the mercifully warm carriages, leaning back in their seats in relief.
The trek up to the castle was an unpleasant one, second and third years clung to the bigger kids, desperate not to get blown away from the gale that was buffeting them from all sides, making Hogwarts herself creak and groan as the battlements were repeatedly buffeted.
Stumbling into the mercifully warm and dry entrance hall, Harry, Ron and Hermione hurried towards the Great Hall, stopping in their tracks when a huge, red water balloon exploded at their feet, missing by inches. Overhead, Peeves cackled and aimed another balloon at a group of second year girls, who screamed and ran into the hall, robes held over their heads.
They rushed into the hall before Peeves could throw anymore balloons, sitting down at Gryffindor table and waiting expectantly for the new batch of first years to come in and be sorted. Ron groaned and rubbed his belly.
"Merlin! I wish they'd hurry up, I'm starving." Ron grumbled, just as his belly gave a loud rumble.
"For pity's sake Ron, the sorting is really important! It determines whether they will be an asset or a hindrance to the houses." Hermione snapped, glaring at Ron.
"Yeah yeah." said Ron in a bored voice.
Hermione huffed and crossed her arms, watching the door for when McGonagall would enter with this years first years. Harry was rather looking forward to the sorting, he hadn't been to one since his own, due to a number of events, in his second year, Dobby had sealed the passageway, meaning that they had to drive Ron's dads enchanted car, resulting in them crashing into the Whomping Willow.
In his third year, he had fainted on the train due to the presence of the dementors and so had been called to Professor McGonagall's office, causing him to miss the sorting for a second year running. So as this was the first actual sorting he had seen, Harry was eager to see what new faces would crop up in Gryffindor this year.
"Hi Harry!"
Harry was blinded as a flash went off right in his face, causing white spots to appear in his vision. When his vision cleared, he looked bemusedly into the face of Colin Creevey, who was clutching at his camera and grinning excitedly.
"Hullo Colin." said Harry exasperatedly.
"My brother Dennis is starting this year! Isn't that great! I hope he's in Gryffindor too, he's heard all about you." said Colin, all in one breath.
Harry was saved from answering by the appearance of McGonagall, followed by the nervous looking first years who stared around the room in awe, gasping and pointing at the enchanted ceiling.
The hat opened it's mouth and began to sing, as was custom for the start of year sorting. The song finished, causing the hall to burst into applause.
'"There's my brother." Colin whispered, pointing to a short, blonde boy, wearing what looked like Hagrid's moleskin overcoat.
McGonagall unrolled the scroll and started calling out names, the nervous looking first years stumbling forwards in their haste to get sorted. Ron groaned more and more as the first years were sorted to their respective houses, rubbing his belly and scowling slightly. Harry sniggered at his best friends antics and turned back to the sorting.
Harry watched as "Cauldwell, Owen!" was placed in Hufflepuff, along with "Branstone, Eleanor!"
Sure enough, Dennis Creevey was the first to be sorted into Gryffindor, earning himself pats on the backs and handshakes as they welcomed the newest soldier to their ranks.
"I fell in Colin!" said Dennis, excitedly, like it was the most appealing thing in the world to fall in a freezing cold lake, infested with grindylows and giant squids.
Ron was looking almost light-headed by the time "Whitby, Kevin!" was sorted into Hufflepuff.
Finally, Ron groaned as Filch carried the hat and stool away. He stared expectantly at his plate, waiting eagerly for the food to appear. Dumbledore stood up and opened his arms wide, beaming down at the peaky faces looking up at him.
"Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts, first years and old timers." Dumbledore boomed, beaming genially.
"Now I have a few start of term announcements to give out but now is not the time. Tuck in!"
The hall laughed appreciatively and dove into the food, Ron piling his plate as high as was humanly possible and practically inhaling it. Harry groaned in satisfaction as the smooth mashed potatoes slid down his throat, lining his empty stomach. He elected to eat his food rather than pay attention to the conversation around him.
"This food was made by slave labour?"
Harry's head snapped up. Rubbing his ear from where Hermione had screeched into it, he turned to a silently glowering Hermione and a bemused looking Ron and Nearly Headless Nick.
"What?" said Harry, raising his eyebrows at his friend.
"This food, house elves made it?" said Hermione, looking disgusted.
"ERMYNEE, DEY LEEK IT." said Ron, mouth full of food.
"Ronald Weasley, don't talk with your mouth full! And they only like it because they've been conditioned to do so." Hermione snapped, glaring.
Nothing anybody could say would persuade her so she spent the rest of the feast, glaring at anyone that dared to eat the delicious, resolutely ignoring the food on her plate. When the deserts had disappeared from the tables and the plates were left gleaming, Dumbledore rose to his feet once more.
"Now before we retire to bed, I have a few announcement to make, this year, the Quidditch Cup will not take place."
Cries of outrage filled the hall and Harry and Ron turned to each other, horrified with the injustice. They were banning Quidditch? They might as well take one of their limbs while they were at it.
Dumbledore continued as if there had been no interruption, "This is due to an event that is set to take this year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It will start in October and continue throughout the school year."
Just as Dumbledore was about to continue, the Great Hall doors swung open and a strange looking man stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on a long staff, wearing a black travelling cloak. The whole school watched as the man stumped up to the staff table, a dull clunk following in his wake, he reached the table and lowered his hood, revealing a mane of grizzly hair and a heavily scarred face, even more scarred than Remus'
The candlelight shone on the man's face, causing gasps to erupt through the hall. His face looked as if it had been carved from weathered wood, there seemed to be several chunks of skin missing, especially his nose. That wasn't what was frightening about the man, it was the fact that he had one normal eye and the other, was large, round as a coin and bright blue.
Harry had the uneasy feeling that the man was looking at him, so looked down at his lap, waiting until he could no longer feel his eyes boring into him. He whispered something to Dumbledore, they shook hands and he sat down, pulling a plate of sausages towards him and sniffing them as if checking for poison.
"Allow me to introduce your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Alastor Moody."
There was an uncertain scattered applause as the students stared, transfixed up at their new Defence teacher, wandering if he'd be as good as Remus.
"Think he'll be as good as Lupin?" Ron whispered.
"No." Harry shook his head loyally, wishing that it was Remus teaching this year.
"Now, as I was saying," Dumbledore continued, "this year, Hogwarts school are to have the utmost honour of hosting the Triwizard Tournament."
"YOU'RE JOKING?" Fred and George exclaimed, causing giggles to erupt through the hall.
"I am not joking Mr Weasley, Hogwarts will indeed play host to the Triwizard Tournament. Some of you may not know what the tournament involves, so I do hope that those who have will allow me to explain to those who have not."
Excited whispers broke through the hall at Dumbledore's words. Dumbledore smiled down at them all before holding his hand up for quiet once more.
"The Triwizard Tournament was first established seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three biggest European magical schools- Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. A champion was chosen to represent their school and those three champions competed in three challenging magical tasks. The schools took turns to host the tournament, once every five years, and it was agreed that it would be a way to build ties between young witches and wizards, all of different nationalities- that is until, the death toll became too high and thus, the tournament was discontinued."
Hermione looked nervous and mouthed 'Death toll?' looking horrified at the thought of anyone dying in this competition.
"There have been numerous tried over the centuries to reinstate the tournament but up until now, all have been unsuccessful. However, myself and our own Department of International Magical Co-operation have decided that it is time for another attempt, we have put in safeguarding precautions to prevent any deaths from occurring."
"Now, the heads of both schools will arrive on the Thirtieth of October and the selection of champions will take place on Hallowe'en. An impartial judge will be brought in to choose the students that are believed to be worthy of the much coveted Triwizard Cup and to bring eternal glory to their school. Not to mention the thousand galleons prize money."
"Are you gonna go for it?" said Ron, turning to Harry and grinning madly.
"Nope, I've had enough adventure to last me a lifetime thanks." said Harry, shaking his head.
"We are!" chorused Fred and George, leaning forwards and grinning madly at Harry, Ron and Hermione.
"Mum'll kill you." said Ron, raising his eyebrows.
"Nah we're here and she's at home." said George smugly.
"Oh yeah? Last year, she marched all the way over here after that prank Harry and I did." said Ron incredulously.
Harry blushed, remembering the sounds that issued from the antechamber as he cleaned the Great Hall, last year.
"Though I know that you all are most eager to compete. It had been decided that no students under the age of seventeen may enter. This is-" here, Dumbledore had to raise his voice over the catcalls, and protests
Fred and George paled but shrugged, thinking that it would probably be worth it.
"Is a necessary measure, the nature of the tasks are both dangerous and challenging, way beyond anything an underage witch or wizard could do. I personally, will be ensuring that no underage student puts their name forwards for consideration."
Here, his blue eyes twinkled in the direction of Fred and George, who both had looks of wounded innocence upon their identical faces.
"I can only hope that you make our foreign guests feel welcome during their stay here. And now, it is time for bed. Off you go."
"I'm still going to enter." said Fred, as they filed out of the hall, treading the familiar route to Gryffindor tower.
"You really think it'll be that easy? Dumbledore will put in precautions." said Hermione, rolling her eyes.
Fred and George chose to ignore Hermione, sloping off with Lee Jordan and chatting a mile a minute. The three shook their heads as they spoke the password "consilio et animis"
Harry found himself suddenly inexplicably tired so he went straight to his dorm room, slipping off his shoes, changing into his pyjamas and sliding into the heavenly warmth of his four poster. His eyes slid shut of their own accord and he was asleep within minutes.
He was running through a forest, long, purposeful strides as he tried to reach his destination. He had no idea where he was going, yet he knew which direction to go in. Finally, he reached a clearing with nothing but a twitching man in a long black cloak and a mask.
At his feet, lay a woman who was writhing and whimpering, staring up at the man with fear filled eyes. Harry felt sick watching the woman.
"My dear Bertha Jorkins, you have served us well but now you must be disposed of. Wormtail, dispose of her as you will." came a cold high voice, somewhere to Harry's right.
Harry whirled around but saw nothing but a bundle of black, which was twitching slightly.
"Y..yes m..master." Wormtail whimpered, fingering his wand.
The woman looked up at the woman with pleading eyes, begging for mercy but Wormtail just looked away and raised his wand.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Green light filled the clearing, shooting towards the woman and hitting her in the chest. She gave a small gasp of surprise and stopped struggling, head lolling to the side. She was clearly dead. Harry felt himself being pulled backwards, the dream fading away before him.
He sat up in bed, gasping and sweating. He looked around the room and was inexplicably relieved when he saw that he was back in his dorm room at Hogwarts, safe within the wards and fully trained teachers. Climbing out of bed, Harry slipped his glasses on his face and padded over to the window, pouring himself a glass of water from the jug on Neville's bedside table.
What had that dream been about? It had seemed so real, so sinister. Wormtail had been in it, he knew that for sure. But why was he dreaming about the rat for? It was just a dream right? Something, deep down told Harry that he should talk to Dumbledore or Remus about this, something that had a voice remarkably like Hermione's.
Knowing he probably wouldn't get back to sleep any time soon, Harry crouched over his trunk, moving aside his robes, potion bottles and books to reach the parchment that Remus had given him, it was charmed for Harry to write on it and Remus would get a message and write back.
Grabbing the light blue parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink, Harry slammed his trunk shut, careful not to wake the other sleeping boys and crept down to the now empty common room, sitting in front of the fire, staring into the dying embers of the fireplace. Sucking the tip of his quill, Harry dipped it in the ink and began to write.
Uncle Remus, I just had a nightmare, it seemed too real. Wormtail was in it, with this woman at his feet, Bertha Jorkins I think her name was. Anyway, I heard this cold voice tell Wormtail that she was disposable and to kill her, so he did. he used this spell that caused green light to shoot out. Do you think it was real? Should I tell Dumbledore?
Harry knew that it was highly likely was tucked up in bed, fast asleep and snoring as he usually was at that time so he was very surprised when the parchment glowed green and Remus' neat handwriting appeared on the paper.
Harry, put the dream from your mind from now. I don't know whether it could be real or not but you are right in thinking that you should be speaking to Dumbledore. Tell him the nature of the dream and then report back to me. Get some sleep and I'll talk to you in the morning.
Yawning, Harry scribbled out a quick reply before rolling the parchment up and stretching, feeling tired enough to sleep where he stood.
Okay, speak tomorrow. Goodnight.
Dragging his feet, Harry crept up to the fourth year boys dorm and hid his parchment under his pillow, immediately collapsing into bed. The only thought that crossed his mind before he went to sleep was that he'd forgotten to take his medication.
September 2nd dawned bright and early, birds were singing happily outside the windows and weak autumn sunlight streamed into the room, hurting Harry's eyes as they flickered open. For a moment, he felt disorientated, wandering where he was but then he remembered he was back at Hogwarts and he relaxed, climbing out of bed and taking a quick shower.
When he emerged from the bathroom, feeling slightly better. The other boys were getting up, yawning and grumbling about the early hour. Chuckling, Harry pulled on his school robes, attempting rather unsuccessfully to flatten his unruly hair.
Giving up, he retreated down the stairs, where he found Neville staring rather glumly into space, resting his chin on his hands and his elbows on his knees.
"Hey Neville, what's up?" said Harry, sitting down next to Neville and smiling.
"Oh hey Harry. Nice summer?" said Neville gloomily.
"Not too bad. Is something up?" said Harry, feeling slightly concerned at Neville's defeated demeanour.
"Do you ever feel useless?" said Neville, looking straight into Harry's eyes.
Harry felt like saying no would be the wrong thing to say but then so would lying.
"Everybody has times when they feel like that. Why'd you ask?"
"It's just, everyone expects me to be this exceptional wizard, like my mum and dad. Gran's disappointed in me because I'm so useless."
"You are not useless. You are brilliant at herbology." said Harry kindly.
"That's all though. Gran wants me to be an auror, like Dad." said Neville moodily.
Harry shook his head, suddenly feeling like a councillor.
"Be who you want to be Neville, not who your gran does. If you want to work with plants then go for it." said Harry, smiling kindly at Harry.
"Thanks Harry, what do you want to do when you finish Hogwarts?"
Harry shrugged, grinning at Neville.
"I haven't the foggiest." said Harry, chuckling slightly.
Neville smiled, the first genuine smile Harry had seen and nodded towards the staircase, where Ron and Hermione were standing, watching Harry laugh with fond looks on their faces. He beckoned them over and turned back to Neville.
"Fancy some breakfast Neville?" said Harry, smiling kindly at the blushing boy in front of him.
Neville nodded and together, they walked down to the hall. Harry and Ron, talking about their Quidditch teams positions in the leagues while Hermione and Neville chat about the effectiveness of the harlopouth plant in getting rid of nettle rash.
Harry settled down at the table, pulling a plate of bacon towards him, piling Canadian bacon, eggs, sausages, potato cakes and fresh fruit towards him, indulging in the delicious food that Hogwarts had to offer. Next to him, Ron had his mouth full of food, earning himself a glare form Hermione, whom was once more, ignoring the delicious food in front of her.
Harry looked up at the overcast sky as mirrored on the enchanted ceiling and wandered if he would be getting any post from Sirius today. With a loud clatter and shriek, the owls flooded into the hall, dropping packages and letters onto their owners heads before flying out for a sleep in the owlery.
A huge, black owl swooped down and landed in Harry's bacon, sticking it's leg out, on which a letter and a small, square parcel was attached. Curiously, Harry untied the letter and parcel, offering the owl the last of his bacon.
Recognising the handwriting, Harry grinned and slit the envelope open, eyes sliding along the page.
Harry,
How is Hogwarts? I trust you've heard of the tournament by now, Dumbledore said that he was going to announce it at the start of term feast. This letter brings not only greeting, but warning Harry.
I cannot say too much in case the owl is intercepted but I must stress that you need to be careful this year. Death Eater activity is higher than it has been since Voldemort's downfall and they will be going after you, I don't mean to scare you but you need to know the truth.
I know for a fact that an ex-death eater will be at Hogwarts this year, I cannot say who but I will talk to you another time for the piece of information. All I ask of you is to stay safe and come to me, Remus or Dumbledore if you feel that anybody is acting oddly towards you.
On another note, I enclose a two way mirror. James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions and wanted to talk. All you need to do is say my name into the mirror and I will appear. Use this whenever you need to talk to me. Or optionally, we could set up a time to talk, when I'm not training and you're not studying. Reply on this parchment and let me know as soon as.
Sirius.
Unwrapping the mirror, Harry stared at it in awe. Had this really belonged to his father once upon a time? Like his cloak and the Marauders Map? The thought was comforting somehow. He turned it over in his hands, running his finger over the scratched, wooden back, mouth set in a small smile. A shriek to his left nearly had him dropping the mirror. Heart thudding, Harry turned to Hermione, who was clutching the Daily Prophet and looked deathly pale.
"Hermione? What is it?" said Harry, seriously concerned for his best friend.
Wordlessly, Hermione pushed the paper at Harry, who crouched over it to read it. Ron leaned in as well, eyes widening as he took the words in.
Death Eater attack at Diagon Alley, seven dead.
Late last evening, a notorious and violent attack was carried out on the popular High Street, Diagon Alley. Eyewitnesses reported numerous figures in black cloaks and masks, apparating in and sending spells at everyone in the vicinity.
Ministry officials and aurors were dispatched to deal with the attack but unfortunately, several people, and two goblins were killed in the raid and many more injured. Minister Fudge arrived at a scene of total devastation, bodies littered the street and shops were smouldering wrecks.
"I can confirm that seven cleared death eaters were responsible for the attack on Diagon Alley. I urge the public not to panic, the World Cup and this incident are totally unrelated, that is to say, they are two separate incidents. The perpetrators have been tried and sent to Azkaban." Fudge said, in an interview with media officials.
Nonetheless, the public is in uproar. Are these attacks really unrelated? Or does something more sinister lurk beneath the surface? You be the judge of that.
Daily Prophet correspondent, Airic Sanquar.
"Oh that's not good." said Harry anxiously, handing the paper back to a shaking Hermione.
All around the hall, people were whispering anxiously, huddled together and glancing up at the staff table. Harry's eyes roved to the staff table, landing on Dumbledore, whom was devoid of his usual twinkle and was looking rather sombre as McGonagall talked rather anxiously into his ear.
Harry turned to look at Ron, who like everyone else in the hall, looked horrified but incredulous at the same time. Harry raised his eyebrows curiously.
"It's a bit fishy isn't it? Two death eater attacks in two months and the ministry say they're unrelated somehow? I have the feeling that they're trying to cover something up." said Ron wisely.
"Do you know what Ron? You might be right there." said Hermione, surprising both Harry and Ron.
It was a rare occurrence when Hermione Granger admitted that one of the boys were right, more so when she admitted that Ron was right.
"Uh thanks?" said Ron.
"But what.." she was cut off however, by McGonagall moving along the line, handing out timetables.
"Ah crap, we have double potions first thing, then history of magic, divination and Care of Magical Creatures after lunch and then transfiguration." Ron groaned, scanning his timetable.
Harry sniggered at his friend and stood up, swinging his bag over his shoulder and waiting for Hermione and Ron to scramble from their seats before walking at a sedate pace towards the dungeons where they would spend the next two hours, getting hounded by Snape. Well, Harry thought wryly, I'm not going to give him an excuse to, I'll get the potion right if it kills me.
They arrived in the dungeons, glaring at Snape as usual when he completed his usual insults of the Gryffindors.
"Today, we shall be completing a draught known as the Draught of Illusion, now I don't expect dunderheads like you to understand how to make this fine potion but I must ask, does anybody know what this potion does?"
Predictably, Hermiones hand shot up, arm stretching as far as it would go. Snape saw her but ignored her, sneering at the class.
"No one? How very disappointing." Snape sneered.
Hermione blushed and lowered her hand while Harry and Ron glared at Snape, who seemed to have taken vindictive pleasure in causing Hermione embarrassment. Harry glared at the back of Snapes head as he turned and wrote on the board.
"For your information, The Draught of Illusion is a powerful hallucinogenic, used to induce lucid dreams and hallucinations. It is often used when an epiphany is in order and occasionally to determine your animagus form."
Snape sneered at the blank faces before him, eyes resting on Neville, where they glittered maliciously. Harry watched Snape with narrowed eyes, wandering why he was being such a bully.
"The instructions are on the board, you are to work in pairs. Begin."
With that, Snape marched to his desk and began marking papers, pausing to glare at the students every now and then as they collected their ingredients from the store cupboard. Determined to get one over on Snape, Harry ensured that his gurdy roots were cut exactly a quarter inch and made sure to add an anti clockwise stir for every fifth clockwise stir.
He ground the fairy wings into a fine dust, remembering to lower the heat in and stir them clockwise five times. Sure enough, halfway through completion, the potion was the aquamarine blue that it was supposed to be, earning him a proud smile from Hermione.
The minutes ticked by and the fumes were making him dizzy but determination drove him on. It was with great relief that he added leprechaun toenails, turning the potion the bright gold it was supposed to be. Grinning at Hermione, he took the potion off the heat, putting a stasis field over it so that Malfoy couldn't sabotage like he so often did.
"Okay, you bunch of dunderheads, label your potions and clear away. The lesson is over." Snape sneered, sweeping around his desk like an overgrown bat.
Harry rolled his eyes and labelled his and Hermione's names on the vial, smirking smugly as he handed the potion to Snape who just glared at the perfect potion. Harry grinned triumphantly at Ron who looked slightly put out, his and Neville's potion had turned acid green.
"Bloody hell mate! Your potion was perfect." said Ron, earning himself a cough from Hermione.
"Oh sorry Hermione, Harry and yours potion." said Ron sheepishly as they emerged from the dungeons and started making their way to the history of magic classroom, preparing for the monotonous teachings of Professor Binns.
"So, what'd you think the ministry will say about that attack?" Ron whispered as Binns began droning on about the great wand wood shortage of 1456.
"I dunno, they'll probably try and cover it up. You saw the article." said Harry, shrugging and pillowing his head on a book.
Hermione huffed loudly, throwing her quill down in disgust.
"What would you do?" she glared at them, "If I refuse to allow you to copy my notes?"
"We'll fail and it'll all be on your head." said Ron, rolling his eyes and shrugging.
Hermione grumbled something unintelligible and turned back to her notes, throwing Harry and Ron-whom were playing hangman on a sheet of parchment-dirty looks.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of lessons, a windswept walk around the grounds and a blinding headache in Harry's case. Once again, Trelawney predicted his death (twice).
It was with great relief that Harry dumped his bag in Gryffindor Tower and sloped down to the Great Hall, rubbing his temples as Ron and Hermione bickered besides him. Flopping down at Gryffindor table, Harry pulled a plate of steak and ale pie towards him, before realising that he wasn't hungry. He felt as if a leprechaun had crawled into his skull and was kicking his brain.
Ron and Hermione were still bickering, jarring his sore head unbearably. Suddenly, his stomach lurched and he clapped a hand to his mouth, running from the hall as fast as he could, leaving behind a concerned Ron and Hermione.
No sooner had he burst into a cubicle than his stomach decided to forcibly eject it's lining. Heaving and retching, Harry crouched over the toilet, eyes watering as he repeatedly vomited. Wiping his sweaty brow, Harry staggered to his feet, flushing the toilet and walking slowly over to the sink, peering into it at his drawn appearance.
Shaking his head, Harry turned to leave, just as a huge wave of dizziness overtook him, his vision darkened and the world tipped, sending him into the welcoming arms of unconsciousness. Harry Potter slumped to the floor and thought no more.