"I see my enemies. I see my allies. I do not see my friends because I do not know if they exist."

-Darrow Starkov

When he opened his eyes again, he was being hauled onto the platform.

He was alive. Alive.

His senses were at maximum capability, maybe from the adrenaline or almost dying.

"Harry!" Someone rushed over to him, wrapping him in a towel and kissing the top of his head. "Thank god you are alright."

He only laid there on the platform, too tired to respond. His body felt like someone had taken him apart and hastily reassembled him.

He noticed that he happened to be beside the unconscious Latisha Randle. How coincidental. Though her eyes were closed, her mouth was wide with a smile. Harry wondered if she was smiling because she knew her brother was now safe.

Then he turned his head to look at the sky. The clear, cloudless sky that was impossible to see when one was underwater, impossible to see in that dark cave.

He was safe above the water, but he swore that he could still hear the Kraken's roars.

The sky was so blue. It was so absolutely blue.

His eyes closed again.

The hospital ward was not somewhere he visited often. It wasn't like he went on an adventure every year that ended up sending him to the infirmary.

He woke up with a few bandages here and there. He had gotten a few cuts and wounds, but nothing too life-threatening. The nurse had said he was mostly suffering from exhaustion, and possibly a concussion. She told him to spend a day in the hospital ward to rest and for observation.

During this day, he had many visitors. Some he expected and others, not so much.

The first set of visitors were Kirsten and Adrik. Kirsten had grabbed Adrik and Harry, the three of them sharing a big group hug. She congratulated Harry on a job well done, while expressing how glad she was that he was okay.

"We were sitting in the stands and we were watching, waiting for you to come up. We were so worried. I don't know what I would do if something did happen to you."

Harry smiled. How did he ever manage to find friends like these? "Well, you would be stuck with Adrik for one."

"Stuck with some pretty good company." Harry's best friend added in.

Harry could only laugh as Kirsten elbowed Adrik in the stomach, a little too hard. In the end, they all laughed.

After they all calmed down, Adrik continued. "But Harry mate, you really got to finish the task faster. After all, I did get some money on you and I do enjoy large profits." He received another elbow to the gut. "Oof, but the lightning stunt was cool."

They explained how he had finished third for the task. Cedric Diggory had finished first and shark-headed Krum had been second. They said how the judges had talked it over, and even though some of them believed Harry had shown excellent moral fibre for saving the remaining captives, the judges had decided to not take it into account. As a result, Harry was no longer in first place on the banner. Cedric Diggory now held the lead, followed by Harry. After was Krum in third place.

Soon enough, the two had to leave for potions class. Professor Blandan was in a particularly bad mood that day because of "missing potion ingredients" and Adrik couldn't risk being late, again.

As if perfectly timed, Fleur Delacour came, taking their place. Harry smiled when Adrik almost tripped over himself while ogling Fleur. Kirsten had to shove him out of the infirmary, but Fleur seemed like she was used to the attention. The French student had conversed with him, asking him the basics. How was he? Did he feel better? They talked shortly before she too departed, but she had said something to him in French as she left. From what he could piece together, it was something along the lines of "brave idiot", which he couldn't argue with.

But the visitor's seat by Harry's bed had not remained empty for long.

After a few minutes of silence, a young boy had filled the seat. He had come from the visitor's seat a few beds down. At first, the boy said nothing and looked everywhere other than at him.

Harry returned the courtesy. It was not an awkward silence, but one of reflection and slight guilt. Then the younger boy looked at him, the same boy Harry had saved during the second task. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Then he closed it and swallowed any pride that was in the way, it looked like he was about to lick the bottom of a shoe.

"You are looking better." Harry started, knowing that the boy was ready to talk but didn't know what to begin with.

The boy nodded, glad to have somewhere for the conversation to start. "I think most people look better when they aren't in a magical sleep, but yeah, I feel better for sure." He scratched his head. "You look better too, than when you came out of the water."

More silence. This time Harry would not start. He did what he could to make it easier for the boy, but in the end, it was on him.

"I'm sorry."

And there it was, Kane Randle's apology. Once the hardest words were spoken out loud, the rest came out easily.

"After that night in the hospital," the boy said, rubbing his hand that was still bandaged. No doubt it was still healing from when Harry had pierced it with a wand. "I did some thinking. Not like I could sleep much after your visit. You were right. I got angry and I blamed what happened to my sister on you. And then during the task, you didn't have to save me, but you did. So thank you. And I will stay away from you now like you told me to... But if you ever need anything, I owe you one. Anything at all."

"Kane," Harry called out before the boy got up to leave. "I was reading the rules of the tournament. Once selected as a champion, she has to compete in all the tasks unless she forfeits."

"There is no point telling me. The choice isn't mine to make." The boy responded.

"She is in an indefinite state of unconsciousness, which means her next of kin can make the decision for her. You can forfeit on her behalf."

Kane shook his head. "I know that, but like I said, the choice isn't mine to make. If she forfeits, she loses her powers."

"But she gets to keep her life. Even if she does wake from her coma before the third task with her magic still intact, how is she going to compete without her legs?"

"I wouldn't be able to stand myself if she lost her magic because of a decision I made."

"You wouldn't be able to stand yourself if she died because of a decision you didn't make. It's a hard choice Kane, I won't lie to you. Think it over, delay it as much as you can. You have some time before the third task with the Yule Ball going on. Just give it some thought."

The boy only nodded, not willing to make any promises. He stood up and left Harry with some words before walking out for some fresh air to think. "Everyone will forget what you did during the task. They will let their fear take over them and forget, but I won't. I can promise you that." He had shrugged and then ended with, "I don't know if it matters to you or not, but you aren't the person everything thinks you are and I'm sorry for ever thinking so."

Harry had taken a short nap afterwards and woke up to a note on his bedside. It seemed Zacharias Smith had stopped by shortly while he was sleeping.

Feel better.

-Z.S

Maybe we can talk when you are feeling better.

He folded the note and left it in his pocket as Hermione approached.

"You are awake," she stated.

"So I am. How about you?"

She sat down beside him in a huffed manner. "If you are asking me if I enjoyed being kidnapped and put into a bewitched sleep, the answer is no. I thought the idea of bringing back the Triwizard Tournament after it got discontinued was a bad idea, but now it is outright ridiculous. How can the ministry officials even allow this? Kidnapping is a crime for god sake. If you hadn't fought the Kraken, the remaining captives would have died. The ministries are claiming that they didn't know there was a Kraken in the lake, but how could they not? Even for the first task, I knew something was off. One of the dragons was an Antipodean Opaleye. That breed of dragons is never aggressive. They rarely attack, only if it is hungry, but that dragon was erratic. They all were. The poor dragons must have been starved prior to the task so that they were riled up."

Harry had not known that particular fact about the dragons. He knew that dragons, in general, were dangerous, but he did not know that the dragons they fought for the first task were intentionally aggravated.

"Harry, you need to be more careful out there. The people in charge of the tournament are becoming more and more negligent."

"Negligent or has it all been intentional," he muttered to himself.

She gasped. "You aren't saying, you can't be saying they did it on purpose."

Hermione was the paragon of order. Rules were her life and she knew that they were not perfect, but to question them would be to question her very way of living. It would be to question what she lived by.

"Harry, you are being absurd. Why would they want to harm anyone? One of the champions dying wouldn't do their public image any good, don't even mention the legal action that will be taken against them or the outrage."

"Two beds down from me is Latisha Randle. She lost both her legs and is in a coma from the first task. She still had to participate in the second task and she will have to keep participating even if it kills her, or lose her magic. Where is the outrage, Hermione?"

She opened her mouth but remained speechless. She didn't have an answer for him. Hermione Granger didn't have an answer.

Harry had lived his entire life under the thumb of society because he was different. Not only had he witnessed it, but he experienced firsthand the atrocities that society as a whole was responsible for. And because it was society's fault, there was nowhere for the blame to be placed. After all, who would want to accuse themselves? There was no space in society for society's imperfections. The flaws would be ignored or when they could not be ignored, they would be forgotten. And this crime of ignorance and avoidance was the fault of each member of society.

He had a decision now.

Hermione only saw part of the problem. She only saw the injustices and shortcomings of the tournament. Nothing more than the tip of the iceberg. There was no way she could know about the underlying plans and schemes at play if he never told her they existed.

He could tell Hermione about everything—the secrets were slowly making their presence felt as they weighed him down—or he could tell her nothing. In the end, he settled for somewhere in between.

"Hermione, do you remember that time you drank almost an entire bottle of Firewhisky, after the champion selection?"

She nodded her head slowly, unsure of where he was going with it.

"In your drunken state, you made a remark-"

"I said you didn't enter the tournament."

"And you were correct in saying so," his voice was quiet. Luckily the beds around him were not in use. It seemed like it was a slow day for visitation and the fact that it was dinner time left the hospital relatively empty.

"I thought that was all a dream. If you didn't enter your name in the goblet, then who did?"

"I don't know, but that's why I think what happened was intentional."

She looked at him gravely, understanding the connection. Her voice when she spoke was an echo of what he was thinking. "How better for someone to kill you than in an accident during the tournament?"

They were quiet as her brain processed the information he told her. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Who could I tell? If someone was powerful and crafty enough to enter my name in the Goblet of Fire, there isn't anything I can do against them. I have no proof, it would be my word against their's and I don't even know who they are. It would be pointless to tell anyone. The moment my name was picked, I was bound by the magical contract."

Hermione nodded, accepting his reasoning. "So now what?"

He shrugged. Harry had been asking himself that questions for some time now and could only come up with one answer.

"Survive."

Hermione had left shortly after his revelation. She gave no explanation for her sudden departure, but she did not need to. He could see it all over her face. She wanted time away from him to think through everything, and that was why he had not told her anything more. He had not told her about the night he was attacked. He had not told her about the deal he made with Zacharias. He had not told her about Draco's loyalty to him or anything else. Maybe he would one day, but that day was not today.

Her reaction was normal. Not what Harry had hoped for, but at least she didn't immediately run off to find a professor or headmaster. At least she was able to sit patiently before walking off.

He understood and watched as she left.

However, she had mentioned something interesting to him before leaving. The last thing she remembered before the second task was going to find Holden. They had kidnapped her before she could do so, and when she woke up, she found herself in the middle of the lake being pulled onto the platform. The weird part was what happened in between. During her magically induced sleep, she had a dream. It wasn't like a normal dream, and in it, she was wandering around an empty Durmstrang. It was all most likely a clue to the third task.

It was late at night when Harry received his last visitor. The Headmaster of Hogwarts himself, Albus Dumbledore, had entered the hospital ward and stopped at the feet of Harry's bed. The old wizard did not sit down and opted to stand. Harry wondered if it was so that the headmaster could subconsciously appear to be in the dominant position.

"Mr. Potter." he greeted the boy on the hospital bed.

Harry tilted his head to the side and raised an innocent eyebrow. "I'm sorry, you are?"

"My apologies. It seems that old age has been catching up with me recently. I am Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Nice to meet you, sir. What can I do you for?"

"Along with forgetfulness," the headmaster stroked his long white beard, making him appear older and wiser. "It seems that insomnia is a symptom of my age as well. I had heard that you were recovering well and decided to visit you in the infirmary."

"How awfully thoughtful of you. I am truly honoured and thrilled to meet you in person."

The old man smiled, the ever-present twinkle in his eye. "It was quite brave of you Mr. Potter. You risked your life to save others when you could have simply taken Ms. Granger and completed the task. Quite commendable." Making a show of looking around, the professor asked, "Where is Ms. Granger? I saw her here earlier looking quite distraught."

"She must have retired to her room for the night. It is somewhat late."

"You know, for the second task, it was fairly difficult finding someone as your captive." Then the headmaster sat down, almost as if lost in thought. He ignored Harry's comment about the time and continued, "Mr. Weston and Ms. Abram were simply not close enough. You do spend more time with them than most, but I sense that they are not the ones you confide in, nor are they the ones you would want to have your back in a fight. Your relationship is not exceedingly close, or not on your part at least. It would then only make sense to capture was Ms. Granger considering the two of you were spending more and more time together."

Harry remembered earlier Adrik had said something along the same lines. He had asked, clearly insulted, why he was not the one who was kidnapped, and questioned what relationship he had with Hermione while wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. Kirsten had delivered another elbow blow to his stomach for it.

"We find friendships in the most unexpected places."

"Indeed," the headmaster agreed as if knowing from experience, then changed topics, "It is rather late, isn't it? What seems to be keeping you up?"

An old man asking too many questions, he desperately wanted to respond, but he didn't want to make unnecessary enemies. Dumbledore was by no means an ally, but he was not precisely Harry's enemy either.

Stretching his arms and yawning, he tiredly said, "Just some midnight questions. Perhaps you could help satisfy my curiosity. I was just thinking about how lucky I am to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. It's all been such a lucky coincidence considering I am just above the age limit too. If only I could thank whoever made it possible."

"If you are asking who is responsible for the idea of continuing the tournament, I fear I do not have an answer for you. It was someone within the British Ministry of Magic who had first proposed it. The other two Ministries of Magic took some convincing to get on board. However, I believe their efforts will go to waste."

He muttered the last bit to himself, but Harry had caught the words. "And why would that be?"

Dumbledore's eyes continued twinkling like stars, he even smiled now that he realized his small slip-up. "Despite the efforts of the ministries, the tournament is currently under review. A decision should be reached shortly whether to proceed with it or not."

"It seems we must wait before any of us can find answers."

"It seems so..." Dumbledore smiled, satisfied with the intelligence he gathered. Harry returned the smile, satisfied as well.

That was what the whole conversation between them was, a chance for them to size up each other. An assessment to determine if the person across them was a threat. It would seem that they both arrived at the same conclusion.

Neither knew who was in the shadows orchestrating everything, they both only knew that someone was there.

"This has been a most pleasant chat, but I will keep you from sleeping no further. Rest well Mr. Potter, there is much to come. Sometimes what we need is not gold, fame or power. Just some friends will suffice. I think Mrs. Granger and Mr. Smith will do."

So Dumbledore knew about his relation to Zacharias Smith.

"Maybe we can have another chat again one day. Until then, headmaster."

When the old wizard was gone, he closed his eyes once more. As he slept, he dreamed of the voice that called out to him in the cave during the second task.

I have been pushing off updating this story. After the last chapter, I did some reflecting and after a lot of chin scratching, I decided to change the direction of the story. This, of course, meant that I had to change a lot of the events I had planned, and alter the future storyline. Although, I can't say that I'm disappointed with this choice.

-Pyrrhical