Bleeding Red and Gold REDUX Chapter 14
Alright, so some anonymous reviewers decided to bring back the Ron bashing issue. I have a longer explanation for it, but to keep it short, this story contains AU elements. So, for those who don't like Ron bashing, I suggest you take your love for Ron, put pen to paper, and come up with a good story.
Also, I never said that this story was Ron-centric, even though he is the one in the contract.
Sorry to the rest of my readers.
NOTE: I am not Christian. I certainly don't believe in predestination. There are Christian references that seem like predestination. If you are, for some reason, intensely against the Christian faith, then… I have no words for you. Consider this a… notification?
Enjoy Chapter 14.
oOo
September passed in a flash, and Harry couldn't believe how much work they were expected to do for their NEWTs. It was already a struggle for Harry to do around six NEWTs, he couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for Bill, Percy, Hermione, and all the others who had up to twelve NEWT classes to attend. Even Hermione was starting to complain about all the work, which was a big indicator of the amount of work that they were forced to do.
Still, Harry did all he could to maximize his free time in order to spend time with Tracey. The two of them had spent a lot of time talking, walking around the grounds, enjoying the last of the sun before winter came. They had gotten a lot closer, and Harry did everything he could to spend more time with Tracey. He'd even curbed his tendency to get into trouble in order to spend less time in detention. Although that wasn't hard, considering that not many people dared to antagonize him anymore.
Harry woke up early on the first Sunday of October, and decided against falling asleep again. Looking over, he saw that both Ron and Neville were sound asleep in their beds. He had forgiven Ron for his rather nasty words to his girlfriend, and they had become friends again, although Harry still felt a rift between them that, perhaps, would never be closed. Still, Ron was a pretty good friend when he wasn't being pigheaded.
As Harry entered the Great Hall, he was approached by Professor McGonagall.
"Mr. Potter, there a few things of importance that I need to discuss with you."
Harry asked, "Professor, is this about Quidditch tryouts?"
Professor McGonagall regarded her young charge with surprise, "How did you know what was on my mind?"
Harry merely smiled. "I know how attached you are to that Quidditch Cup. I know that you're still wondering when tryouts are going to be held, considering our first match is in a little over a month."
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, "And so…? What have you planned?"
"Tryouts will be held next Saturday. They would've been this week, but recently the schoolwork has really caught up to me." Harry replied, giving McGonagall a meaningful look.
Professor McGonagall chuckled. "Mr. Potter, your antics are not going to lighten the workload for you. Besides, I've heard that you've been spending quite a lot of time with a certain special young lady."
Harry shook his head in resignation. He'd originally intended for his relationship with Tracey to be somewhat private, but he figured that McGonagall was probably one of the most observant people at Hogwarts.
"Well, if that's all, Professor, I'd like to spend some time with the aforementioned special young lady."
"Actually, it is not, Mr. Potter. The school has now been hounded by quite a few reporters who want you to give them a full exclusive interview. I know you'd rather be left alone and that you'd rather not let anyone know about your private life. Unfortunately, the reporters won't give up until you give someone an interview. I advise you to give one of them what you want, so that the rest will leave you alone."
Harry frowned. He hated anything to do with the press. Ever since his bad experiences with the Daily Prophet during his younger years, he made every effort to avoid anything to do with reporters.
Still, he valued his privacy, and he knew that the last thing he wanted was for reporters to hound him after he graduated.
"Can you choose a trustworthy reporter with a good reputation for me, Professor?"
Professor McGonagall looked taken aback for a moment.
"You can select your own reporter, Mr. Potter. Surely you know that."
Harry nodded, "Of course Professor. But I really don't want to deal with them right now, and I trust you can choose a suitable interviewer for me."
Professor McGonagall knew that it wasn't the school's responsibility to choose a reporter for a student, but she felt that no harm would come from selecting a reporter for the young man. After all, Professor McGonagall knew some of the reporters quite well, and they were quite truthful in their articles, unlike the ever-prowling Rita Skeeter.
"Very well, Mr. Potter. I shall send you a notice of the interview as soon as a time has been scheduled."
Harry thanked his professor before heading towards the Gryffindor Table. Tracey, Daphne, and Blaise weren't up yet, evidently, so Harry just decided to quickly scarf down some breakfast before heading up to the Owlery. He had a letter to send.
Ever since the talk with Blaise and knowing that his mother wanted to kill him, Harry decided that instead of waiting for the woman to make a move, he'd meet her face-to-face, figure out her motives, and maybe convince her to divert her attentions elsewhere.
Now, obviously, Harry kept this a secret, as he was pretty sure that the majority of his friends would tell him he was being a complete idiot. Still, Harry was pretty sure that he'd be able to defend himself quite well against any duel or spellfire that Mrs. Zabini could throw at him. He wasn't duly worried, but as an added precaution, he make sure that he'd bring the Elder Wand.
He attached his already written letter to a school owl, and watched the bird fly off into the distance, before returning to the Gryffindor Common Room, and posted the date for the Gryffindor Quidditch team tryouts for the next Saturday. Noticing a still yawning Ron, and Neville coming down the stairs, he walked over and joined him.
Neville raised an eyebrow, surprised that Harry was up this early.
"How are you able to get up so early, Harry? I'm usually exhausted." Ron complained, yawning widely.
"I don't procrastinate as much as you, and get my work done before two A.M., Ron." Harry replied distractedly.
He'd noticed that Romilda Vane was giving him quite a creepy look, which she evidently considered sexy.
Harry quickly tugged on his two mates' arms, and said, "Let's get out of here. Romilda is doing it again."
Romilda had hounded Harry ever since the start of the school year, regardless of the fact that he'd told her he wasn't interested. She thought that he was just being coy with him, and was trying with increasingly desperate measures to try and hook him. She didn't dare use Love Potions again after the Ron fiasco last time, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't resort to different means to, as an irate Tracey quoted, "Sink her poisonous claws" into him.
Hell, in the past week, he'd gotten a very good look down the front of her shirt, and it wasn't his fault. Honest! He'd just been shoved up against the wall one day while walking back from the library, and she had been wearing a shirt with a V-neck that was way too low to be school appropriate.
He'd bolted immediately, of course, and told Tracey as soon as he saw her, unwilling to bollix up their relationship because of an interfering fan girl. Tracey had been incredibly angry, and it was only through Harry's argument that it wasn't worth detention and jeopardizing what little time they had together that deterred the vengeful Slytherin from taking action against the rather forward Gryffindor fan girl.
Even Daphne was rather sympathetic about his plight, which was surprising. Harry still had no idea what to think about the enigma that was Daphne Greengrass. They'd at least began to become somewhat cordial with each other, and there was no longer an air of tension and hostility between them when they talked. They'd even gotten to the point where they were on a first-name basis with each other, instead of the standard surname that Slytherins and Gryffindors used with each other. Still, it was easy to tell that there was still so much that Daphne was holding back.
Ron, meanwhile, had asked Harry to talk Daphne into taking him back. Harry had vehemently refused, telling him that he needed to patch things up himself. Ron, still rather immature at times, had no idea what to do, and sought out Hermione's help. Harry had no idea what had happened afterwards, as Tracey had dragged him off for a bit of "alone time."
Speaking of which, Harry and Tracey's relationship was moving pretty quickly. They were now spending almost all of their free time together, and they had gotten a lot more… physical with each other.
They were falling for each other hard, even though they didn't know it.
Throughout the day, Harry and Tracey spent all their time together, whether it was by the lake or in the library. Sometimes, their friends would join them. The rift between Ron and the Slytherins could not be healed soon, which prevented everyone from being together at the same time, but life could not have been better for Harry Potter.
He had a girlfriend, a group of best friends, and he was shaping his future in his final year of schooling. It seemed like Fate had finally stopped messing with him.
Who knew that it was her brother that was to cause a whole lot of pain and trouble for him…?
oOo
Harry couldn't believe he was here again. He'd thought he would never see this place again until he died. He wasn't dead, right? He couldn't bear the thought. Looking across at the rather clean, silent, train station, with the unnatural fog, he couldn't see anybody here. Nobody to welcome him aboard a "train" that would take him on what Dumbledore had called, "the Next Great Adventure."
He hadn't gotten to say goodbye to his loved ones yet. And Tracey was going to kill him the next time she saw him.
Suddenly, a feminine voice sounded behind him.
"You're not dead, Harry Potter."
Harry turned, and beheld a beautiful woman walking towards him, out of the unnatural mist. Upon closer inspection, Harry was immediately apprehensive. The woman radiated power. She was no ordinary woman. Even Dumbledore did not have nearly the amount of power that this woman wielded.
"Who are you?" Harry asked bluntly.
The woman chuckled softly at that.
"Ah, so refreshing, Harry. That's something that I like about you, Harry. You don't grovel and beat around the bush. I've had enough of people groveling at my feet and begging me to change their fate for them."
Harry eyes widened, as he understood the implications of what the woman had told him.
Harry started to get angry. "What did I ever do to you, or in some past life, huh, Fate? Why'd you have to mess with my life so much? Why did I have to get the shittiest hand in all of history in this game we call life?"
Fate smiled back at him serenely, eerily reminding Harry of a certain deceased Headmaster.
"Harry, I merely ensure that your Fate occurs. Your fate was preordained. I merely engineered events for your fate to happen."
Harry glared at the woman, not ready to accept that his lot in life had been drawn before he was even born.
Fate sighed, and sat down on a bench that magically appeared.
"Come, sit with me, Harry. There is something I need to discuss with you."
Harry, reluctantly, sat down. He knew that, no matter how angry he might be, it was a bad idea to piss off Fate. There would probably be hell to pay if he did that.
"Well? What is it that you have to tell me?"
Fate smiled sadly. "This is a long story, so settle down."
Harry growled in annoyance. "Just get on with it."
Fate acquiesced, and began.
"A long time ago, millennia ago, I lost a bet to Death."
"Death? As in the actual Death? The guy who made the Deathly Hallows?"
Fate nodded. "The very same. He is my brother. Since I lost that bet, Death won the right to interfere with the Fate of one person, and only one person. I tried to goad him into using this one-time pass on some inconsequential people in the past. Unfortunately, my brother has kept hold of that one-time pass for a very long time, and has used it as fail-safe for himself in case he ever does need to change the life of a mortal. And now he has a reason to use it."
Harry snorted.
"Knowing my luck, I'm the 'lucky' mortal that Death has taken an interest in."
Fate nodded. "Precisely. You are the Master of three items that make you Master of Death. My brother does not want to be beholden to anyone. He does not wish to be controlled by anyone. Thus, he has opted to change your fate."
Harry clenched his fists.
"When do I get a break? Why can't there be some peace in my life?" he asked of the world at large.
Fate continued, "That is the reason why he's contracted Samantha Zabini to assassinate you."
Harry glared at her. "This had better not be some joke."
Fate looked down, "This is no joke. He wants your death, and will stop at nothing to get it."
Suddenly, the two heard another voice.
"You are quite right, dear sister. I do wish for the death of my 'Master.' I thank you for bringing him into this realm, dear sister. You have made it infinitely easier for me to end his life now."
oOo
Thank you for reading. Please review.