The Prince-Who-Lived
Chapter Twenty
Of course, just because the doors opened, didn't mean anybody moved. Only a few of the first people actually walked through the doors, because the rest all seemed to get tied up by something standing nearby. McGonagall eventually began to chivvy people along, and when Harry came abreast of the champions standing attentively by the door he saw why.
Alan was standing comfortably next to Luna, cradling her hand on his arm and wearing his annoying-as-Hell confident grin. The only reason it wasn't smug at that moment was because he hadn't done anything yet. But the larger reason people were staring was because Alan wasn't wearing robes: He was wearing a very high quality tuxedo, no tie, a silver shirt, and, in his buttonhole was a vibrant purple-and-blue strange-looking flower. Harry had never admired Alan's self-confidence as much as he did right then, standing with that flower on his lapel and Luna on his arm. But he could certainly appreciate the statement he was making, and for god's sake, even he noticed that Alan's trousers couldn't have fit him any better than those did.
Harry didn't dally too long, though, and quickly ushered Neville, Ron, and their dates into the Great Hall to claim a table. Harry looked up in surprise when someone waved for his attention, and Harry quickly followed the gesture to find a small table for eight with Ginny smiling brightly up at him. Beside her, Blaise was wearing a thin, navy blue overrobe with charcoal grey robes beneath. Beside him, Harry heard Ron hiss between his teeth and Harry gently indicated to Susan to chide him. She did so, casually stepping on Ron's foot, and when he looked up in outrage, Harry shook his head slowly and Ron subsided. Harry threw Susan a bright smile. The advantages of knowing your date well were nice.
Harry nodded and, their group was soon arrayed around the table, Ron across from him, Neville beside Susan, and Harry sitting next to Blaise. Harry gave him a small nod, which Blaise didn't return, and then turned to the entrance. It was worth it. The champions were just entering, and Harry got one good look at Krum and his date in the front and nearly choked. Neville's jaw dropped as he stared, and Ginny squealed.
"Oh, she looks gorgeous! I can't believe that's Hermione!"
Harry felt Susan gently tap his jaw, and he closed his mouth, watching her for a few moments longer before he turned to scan over Fleur in her silver satin, and then turn to look at Alan. Harry couldn't help but laugh.
"That tux is ridiculous."
Susan nodded slowly, and Harry saw her lick her lips. Padma also spoke, quietly, but not quietly enough.
"And I though Krum's Quidditch clothes were good. Those trousers on that arse … I hadn't known he had an arse, he's so thin."
Susan burst into giggles, and Padma coloured and looked away, back at the table. Neville just shook his head and frowned. Harry laughed. Honestly, Alan was doing all of that show on purpose. It must be the fact that he was raised American; no respectable Brit would keep up that flaunting attitude. Even a few boys were looking Alan's way, most with jealous expressions. If Harry didn't know Alan so well, he would probably be among those jealous.
The champions took seats among those at the head table. Alan bowed Luna to her seat, and then sat beside her, next to Mr. Templar. Politely, Templar began a conversation. Harry didn't know whether to wish the man luck, or try and imagine the sort of attitude he'd receive from it. It would certainly be amusing.
Turning back to his plate, he took in the menu, and grinned. "Oh, this is grand. Menus."
Susan was already looking through hers and squealed excitedly, "Hannah, I can't believe it! They're offering all kinds of dishes. I haven't ever tasted lamb before, what do you plan on getting?"
Blaise snorted lightly, and eyed the selections speculatively. "How do you suppose we order?"
Neville shrugged. "Maybe you just tell your plate? Hasenpfeffer?" Neville tried. He blinked as a bowl appeared on his plate, filled with the stew. He stifled a snort of amusement. "Good thing I was considering trying that." Shortly, everyone followed his example, and the meal was entered. Harry struggled with how to breach conversation with all four houses sitting at the table. Mind, if he hadn't spent so much time with Alan, Blaise would appear perfectly comfortable to him, but he could pick out tiny signs of stress, from his stiff posture to his tense motions. Determined, Harry smiled at him and picked the only topic that came to mind. He hoped he could be forgiven for being male.
"Blaise, do you follow Quidditch?"
Fortunately for him, Blaise did and could carry a conversation about it. He was fairly certain the girls were despairing of the four men at the table but it got Blaise talking, even with almost good-natured jibes with Ron. Ginny didn't mind; she showed a grasp of Quidditch strategy that had everyone surprised, but the other girls were looking a little despairing. Harry felt he deserved points for making an overture to the boy, at least. They'd all be dancing soon enough. Ginny's grateful look certainly seemed worth it.
The meal ended with a sigh of gratitude from Susan that made Harry wince. They stood, the tables moved to the walls and a platform appeared in the middle of the room, making Harry grin. Susan, beside him, bounced lightly on her feet, and watched transfixed as the Weird Sisters trooped in. Harry still didn't get the band and it's name, but he wasn't arguing and just waited eagerly to see the Champions – or more specifically, Alan - open the Ball. The band struck up a slow, mournful tune, and Alan led Luna into a gentle step. Harry could remember his mother taking him to a muggle show at one time, and there had been a scene much like this. Alan's tuxedo strongly brought the movie to mind, although Luna's rainbow sherbet dress wasn't as fitting. The silvery over robe was the only saving grace that connected her outfit to Alan's, with his silver shirt beneath the coat.
Susan suddenly tugged his arm, and Harry noticed that a few couples had moved onto the dance floor. Harry stepped forward with a small smile, and took Susan out to dance as well, a nice slow step that fit into the crowd easily. Neville was politely leading Padma a few steps away, and Blaise had taken Ginny up towards Alan. However, Harry couldn't wait for this dance to be over. Slow dances were just not something Harry appreciated much.
The song ended with a last note from the bagpipes, and Susan gave Harry a brilliant smile, brightening even more as the next song was struck up. Harry grinned with her.
"I love this song."
"Me too!" Susan gushed. She grabbed Harry's hands again, and they started dancing once more, much more lively than before, and among nearly the same amount of couples as before. Harry couldn't see any of his friends from where he currently was, but the dance was distracting him. Once it ended, however, he prevailed upon Susan to get some drinks and search them out, which wasn't too hard with another slow song going. Susan apparently liked them as much as he did.
Unsurprisingly, Ron found his way to the refreshments shortly after Harry and Susan did. Harry got his attention, and Ron beamed.
"Harry! You know, Hannah's a really good dancer. Makes even me look good." Hannah blushed lightly, but held onto Ron's arm with a soft giggle. Harry looked at them askance, but smiled.
"Good, you need all the help you can get."
Susan and Hannah both laughed quietly while Ron gave a token protest. Harry grabbed a few cookies, and then pulled Ron to the end of the table so they weren't in the way of other couples. Once there, Hermione came over with a smile and Krum in tow. Harry nodded to the Quidditch player, while Ron frowned slightly. Hermione was beaming.
"Harry, Ron, are you having a good time? Viktor, these are Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter and their dates um," Hermione looked at the two Hufflepuffs in concern, and Harry stepped forward and nodded to Viktor before introducing Susan.
"Nice to meet you, this is Susan Bones." Harry then gave Ron a firm look, which made him swallow, and then gently indicate the nervous Hannah.
"Hannah Abbot." He forced his lips into a weak smile. "It's … good to meet you too, Viktor."
"Very good to meet you both." Viktor answered. "Herm-own-ninny has much to say about you both. All of it is very good. You are good friends."
"She's a wonderful friend." Harry answered, ignoring the odd pronunciation. Viktor nodded, and then Harry noticed behind him a small argument at one of the tables. It almost looked like … a second look proved him right, and he groaned. All of his friends looked as well just in time to see Padma slap Neville and storm off into the dancers. Neville rubbed his cheek a moment, and then sat down sullenly. Harry sighed. "Excuse me. Susan, would you stay here a moment?"
Susan nodded quickly, and turned to ask Hermione something. Harry walked past her and made his way over to Neville, who was sitting at the table with his eyes closed. He didn't look up as Harry approached. Harry sat comfortably and leaned back.
"Have we ever managed to not offend one of them?"
"No. I didn't even do anything! Just asked if she wanted to go dance with her sister when she was asking. Seemed to think I wanted to be rid of her, and, well, it was true, I'm not that interested, but I was polite!"
"Why'd you ask if you weren't even interested?"
"And come without a date?"
"Who cares if you have a date or not?"
Neville merely shrugged, and Harry sighed. "You could claim your dance with Hermione, or come hang out with me and Ron, you know."
Neville shrugged again, and stood. "Not right now. I'll go wander for a bit, see if I can pick up a dance or two. I'll look you up; Ron shouldn't be hard to find and I'll just hope you're nearby."
"Thanks." Harry drawled dryly. "Rub your height in, why don't you. Just keep working at it, the soreness is still there, even."
Neville shook his head, and left, and Harry returned to others. He didn't offer any explanation, and he listened to the present song end, and a slow waltz start. He knew how to waltz; maybe it would take his mind off things. Harry bowed shallowly to Susan.
"May I have this dance?"
She giggled nervously a moment, but accepted his hand as he offered it and pulled her once more to the dance floor. They stayed out for the next two dances, and then Harry found himself dancing next to Alan. He caught Alan's eye moments before the band struck up a lively song. Alan smirked. Harry felt his mouth twitch involuntarily, and met the smirk with one of his own. He paused, and changed the motion of his dance with Susan to almost mirror how Alan was moving, and the dancing became a challenge.
Susan noticed the change, and checked to see who Harry was focused on. Noticing Alan, she frowned slightly, but Harry quickly smiled reassuringly, and she went along with him. She was capable of keeping up, yes, but Harry watched to make sure he didn't push her too much. He could see Alan needed to do the same for Luna. However, they hadn't been dancing long before Harry felt Alan's foot skip over and foul his footing. A quick skip saved him from falling, and Harry spun away for a moment, to glare at him. They met again, and Harry subtly tripped Alan up in turn, and it was Alan's turn to make a quick save. Susan seemed ready to tell Harry off, but the two girls were back to back, and Susan stumbled over Luna's foot. A turn of their partners, and Susan glared at Luna's too-innocent expression. It was then Luna's turn to trip.
They repeated it several times, the partners each trying to trip the other. Alan's surprise was gratifying when Susan tripped him at one point. Apparently he hadn't expected it of a Hufflepuff. However, as the song wound down, Harry was trying to move to pick Susan up for a spin when Alan caught his ankle. Harry nearly fell onto Susan, and Alan couldn't get free in time, stumbling as he lost his balance. To not hurt Susan, however, Harry fell onto one knee and Alan kept his feet, barely, probably due to his wearing a tuxedo instead of robes. Harry turned and jerked his chin gently at Alan, who returned with a smug grin and a bow as the song wound out. Around them, students burst into applause and Harry felt himself blush. Apparently their little show had gathered an audience. Harry stood and bowed to Susan and the crowd as one, and then led her into the crowd and to a table. A minute later, Neville came around and placed a glass before each of them and a plate of cookies in the middle. Ron and Hannah followed with a cup each and one for Neville, all of them sitting around the table with them.
"That was wicked, Harry!" Ron gushed. "I couldn't believe how you could keep that up!" Hannah went to talk with Susan, hushed and excited. Susan practically glowed as she ducked close to talk.
"What were you doing, trying to trip each other all along?" Neville asked Harry, returning his attention to them.
Harry smiled. "Of course."
"I'm surprised Ginny isn't over here to congratulate you." Ron commenting, grabbing a cookie. Harry just shrugged.
"I'm not. Blaise is in Alan's coterie."
Ron snorted into his juice and choked. Neville frowned.
"Why'd he ask Ginny to the Ball, then?"
Harry gave Neville a look questioning his intellect. "He likes her? You don't have to like someone's family to like them, you know. And he's not stupid enough to come over here when his opinion would likely clash with ours. Considering that I lost, he's probably cautious."
"Wait, you lost?" Ron asked. Beside him, Hannah rolled her eyes. It seemed everyone else at the table did as well. Fortunately for Ron, Hermione and Viktor came over and sat down as well. Hermione beamed at Harry.
"That was a really foolish thing to do, Harry, but you did really well. I'm sorry you lost, though."
"It's fine, Hermione." Harry returned, and tried not to smile at Ron's gobsmacked expression that she'd apparently seen it easily herself. "He almost took himself out with that last, so it's just as well. I almost had him."
Hermione snorted, and Viktor nodded.
"You are a very good dancer, Harry." He commented. "You did very vell. Are you friends with Prince?"
Harry paused and slowly shook his head. "No, we're more rivals actually."
Viktor nodded with a small smile. "Sometimes that's the most fun, rivalry. He does make a good rival. I hadn't thought he'd be up to this tournament, but he's taken it very vell. He did vell against the dragon; didn't even flinch. I couldn't see how he accomplished the last, getting out of the flames."
Harry turned his face carefully blank. "I'm sure it was completely for show, too. He was raised American, and everyone knows how arrogant they can get."
Viktor nodded warmly, and smiled. "Some vould say the British are the same."
Harry grinned and lounged back in his chair with a smile, bringing up his glass up in toast. Viktor, Ron, and the others copied the gesture before drinking. The cups returned to the table, and Harry leaned closer to Viktor.
"May I ask how you handle being a Quidditch star so young? You're flying is amazing! My mother nearly faints if I try a Wronski feint."
Viktor flushed a little, and stiffened, but Harry kept his expression politely interested and didn't press. Finally, Viktor pulled over a chair and shrugged. "I love flying, so I'm glad to be on the team, and to be able to compete as I do. Do you play seeker?"
Harry grinned. "Gryffindor house team. I've never been beaten to the snitch yet, although Alan's come real close. I think he cheats, though, so I'm definitely the better player." Harry actually knew that Alan cheated, and that he was only playing to compete against Harry. Alan easily admitted that Harry was the better player, but, with his slight advantage, he was a good challenge so Harry had never complained. He only knew because Alan had told him so anyways. "Look, Viktor, if you don't want to discuss it, it's fine. I understand; for crying out loud, kids like me just because my dad's a war hero and a good auror. I'm not even like my dad." Harry bit off the complaint, and let it stand as it was, hoping no one noticed the significance of the phrase. He really was getting careless. He needed to talk to Alan, just to remind himself. They hadn't spoken in too long; the tournament was eating all his time.
Viktor seemed to relax when Harry reassured him of that, and he just smiled faintly, and nodded. "I can understand a dislike for attention."
"Yeah." Harry put in, and then took a long drink with a sigh. "Actually, I'm getting rather warm. If you wouldn't mind, I'm going to step outside. Susan?" Harry turned, and found Susan pulling out of deep conversation with Hannah. She was blushing, but Harry turned a blind eye to it. "I'm going to step outside. Do you mind me leaving you here? I'll find you again if you want to go dance by yourself or with someone else. I just need some fresh air."
"Certainly." Susan beamed at him a little too enthusiastically. "Go right ahead. I'll be here for a while, but I may step out. Go get your air; you do look warm. That fabric tends towards it, doesn't it?"
Not wanting to talk about the make of his robes, his very expensive robes, much less around Ron and Viktor, Harry just nodded and stood, walking outside. As he crossed the floor, he scanned the crowd until he found Alan and purposefully walked past, not looking at him and heading straight into the lighted grotto outside. Wandering brought him to a dark, tucked away corner behind several thick bushes, out of the light and not easily accessed. Waiting was easy, and not long after, Alan wandered past, whistling a faint tune. Harry responded in kind, and Alan slowed, stopped, and whistled quietly again. Harry completed the tune, and Alan leaned against the bush for a long moment, and then slipped past and into the corner. Harry couldn't see his face; but he didn't need to. If he couldn't read Alan's voice and subtle moves, he really was out of practice.
The silence held for a long time, and finally, Alan relaxed against the stone wall beside Harry, still silent, simply offering company.
"I've missed you." Harry quietly admitted. He knew Alan would never say the same if he ever felt it, and he'd never have said it himself if he knew either of them was watching the other. "I think I'm getting out of practice." The sterile comment drained the previous words, and moved into their comfortable alliance. "Is the tournament that time-consuming?"
Harry felt Alan shrug; their shoulders were almost touching, so the motion was within range. "It is worrisome. The clue is still nebulous; I haven't figured it out yet."
Harry tilted his head, curious. "What is it?"
"Loud, screechy wailing. Very loud, and completely indecipherable."
"And you can't think what it is, or means?"
"No. It's not even a banshee's wail. I've checked everything I've thought of, and the language spell just doesn't do anything."
"What spell were you using? What if it's some magical creature or something?"
"What creatures sound like that? It isn't a jabberwocky, or a banshee, I already know that." Alan's tone was curious. Harry had a strong interest in magical creatures, and knew many of them offhand. Harry, however, couldn't think of any right then, so he just shrugged, trusting Alan to feel it.
"Maybe you could try Luna? Her father knows a lot of strange trivia. Maybe a crazy point of view will give you some insight."
"She's not crazy, Potter."
Harry winced, and didn't answer. Alan was right; Luna was not crazy, and he was rude to think so. Alan snorted lightly before leaving quietly back into the grotto, easily smoothing down his hair. Harry hoped there were no teachers out there taking note of that. Harry did not want people thinking he and Alan were trysting; he'd be in such deep trouble he might as well have asked Daphne to the Ball. At least then he'd still be straight, despite the Slytherin beau.
IIII
Alan wandered slowly into the circle of Father Christmas and his reindeer, glancing back to see Harry slip out himself and wander another path farther into the darkness. He spared a short thought of gratitude for an empty grotto at that time, and then checked the time. The Ball was almost over, and he needed to get back to Luna. For someone who 'hadn't known how to dance' she handled the ones he'd never gone over very well. He strongly suspected he'd been played, but didn't feel like summoning the energy to be annoyed with the perpetually surprised Ravenclaw. He just didn't think she'd care all that much.
Alan slipped back into the Ball and located Luna in time for a last dance. The applause for the band was joined, and then Alan gave Luna his arm to escort her back to her common room. While they walked, losing the few other couples heading their way by slipping through several secret passages, Luna finally asked about the Tournament.
"After you teleported away from the dragon, how is the egg?"
Determined to not be surprised or put off by her label for his escape, he just shrugged and admitted, "It's still evading me."
"What is it?" Luna asked. She almost seemed to not know what she was asking about.
Alan glanced at her and shrugged. "Wailing. It's not a banshee, and it's no human language."
"Well," Luna observed. "I've known some things communicate by wailing. Ghosts and whales, and my dad has been investigating a few water creatures. Most of them wail."
"Water?" Alan observed. "Haven't tried that. Thank you, Luna." Impulsively, and by a quirk of observation, Alan leaned and gently kissed Luna's cheek, before bowing her to her common room door. After he did so, Alan turned and ran back down the passage to the dungeons, heading straight to his father's rooms and bursting in. A glance up made him stop in place and smile weakly.
"Bad timing?" He asked.
Severus and Green stood opposite each other around the fire, with Geoffrey sitting on the couch chewing on a toothpick. The expressions told him another argument had been going on. It wasn't surprising; Alan would bet good money it was about Green's negligence of safety precautions. Again. Severus hadn't been happy to find out Alan's ability to see thestrals was Green's fault, but then again, Alan had never blamed Green for that one. The deaths had been enough punishment: seven dead to a floating gas that had spread too fast for containment. Alan had been six and too short to breathe it in with it floating at the ceiling. But even thought it was the past, Severus had never been pleased with Green's very casual experiments and security, and Alan didn't ever expect them to get along.
"I need your bath, dad."
Alan ducked as Severus whipped his wand his way, and then winced as something landed in his hair. "Dad! This suit cost damn good money!"
"It's also stain proof. Now, you have egg in your hair and you need a bath. Get."
Alan scowled and stalked through. He could have just said, 'butt out'. Geez. Alan had removed his coat and shirt before he remembered that he needed his egg. Knocking loudly on the door, Alan opened it several seconds later and stuck his head out. Green and Severus had their wands drawn; Geoffrey was standing against the far wall. Alan rolled his eyes.
"I need my golden egg. Stop killing each other and do something productive; I think I might be able to figure it out now, so unless you want me dying for lack of it …"
Alan tucked his head back behind the door as another spell lashed by his nose. Okay, Severus was in a very bad mood. Not a minute later, something heavy thunked into the door and then was rolled through it. Three locking charms and something Alan suspected was some kind of ward followed. Wonderful. He was stuck in here. What was it with people and keeping things so close? Then again, he'd learned all he knew from them, so he should have a very good idea of that tendency by now. He just didn't like having it used again him.
Once naked, Alan slipped into the large bath, already full, and washed his hair first. He always washed his hair, once a day or more, depending. He hated it when it was oily, and it seemed to be an inherent trait. However, whatever egg Snape had cursed him with was stubborn, so Alan shampooed it up for the second time, washed it to no avail and left it to try his hand at the egg once more. The sound was the same, and Alan shut it quickly, so quickly that it slipped through his grip and dropped into the water. The bath was too deep there for him to grab it without getting his hair wet, and so Alan left it to try the shampoo again. It felt several times cleaner this time, and Alan ducked down with a sigh to rinse. His foot hit the egg, and Alan paused before resurfacing. Immediately, he dove again, and grabbed the egg, pulling it open. The wailing was now speech, a song. The clue. He listened intently,
'Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching, ponder this:
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour – the prospect's black
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.'
Alan surfaced quickly, the egg in hand and stared at the far wall. They were looking underwater. What underwater creature spoke so coherently? Merpeople. They had refused Being classification in favour of being Beasts because they were offended. So, he supposed there were merpeople in the lake, and so he'd be swimming to fetch them. That was easy: he'd known the Bubblehead charm since shortly after Green's disastrous mistake with the poison gas and he could cast it with ease. Ginger had threatened the potions master with bodily harm if Alan didn't learn some defence. Thus it had first been the charm, and then Green and Geoffrey had made the necklace with a bit of phoenix tear and a Hell of a lot of spell work, which had occupied half the research division of Salem until Ginger ordered them to hand something over and keep testing on their own time ...
The more pressing worry, however, is what they would take. Alan knew he wasn't very attached to too much, so it was almost an amusing thought to try and imagine what they'd take. But losing it after an hour … would they even do that? Likely it would be points, but if it wasn't …
Alan huffed and laid back in the bath. He'd probably want to do some laps in the lake now. That water would be freezing; he really should get used to it beforehand. Sighing in irritation, Alan lay back in the bath to wait out the argument in the main room, ruing the turn of events that tied him into the tournament.
IIII
Classes, after the holidays, just seemed to drag themselves into play. No one was eager to return, but it was unavoidable. Most of the House were now spending their time finishing up homework they'd not gotten to until the last minute. Harry had very little left to do, as did Neville, but Ron and the rest of their dorm were almost panicking to get the work done. Ron had a bit of difficulty himself in getting back to work, after he'd blown up at Ginny for accepting Blaise's invitation to the ball. The resultant hexing he'd received was the talk of the school. Whatever it was, the bustle when the first class after the holidays arrived was little different than every other year.
Coming to Care of Magical Creatures, Harry frowned as a small woman awaited them outside Hagrid's hut. The class came together as a group, and Harry glanced over the hut, seeing the curtains pulled closed and a faint scrabbling on the door. Once the class was all together, the woman stepped aside and snapped, "Follow me, I'm Professor Grubby-plank, you're temporary Care of Magical Creatures professor."
Harry followed, curious, and trailed Ron as he pulled to the front, to ask, "Professor, where's Hagrid?"
"Never you mind, son." She snapped. "None of your business."
"Hagrid's our friend!" Ron growled.
"Never you mind." The professor snapped again, and put out her arm to stop them. Harry finally looked up and stopped, staring in awe at the beautiful unicorn tethered before them, in a clearing just past the Beauxbatons' carriage. "Boys stay back. They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns."
Harry pulled Ron over and stood in place as Hermione gently brushed past. Unfortunately, as Professor Grubbly-plank moved forward to keep an eye on the girls and talk loudly enough for the boys to hear as well, Draco moved closer to their group with a faint smile. Harry noticed him keep a hostile eye on Alan as well, who, standing with Blaise and Theodore, appeared completely unconcerned about the other boy. Harry watched him come with a dark look.
"Missing your giant buddy?" Draco hissed. "Maybe he's too ashamed to show his face." Draco tossed an article to the ground at Harry's feet, and Ron bent to pick it up before Harry could tell him not to. Nothing happened, so he moved closer to read past Ron's shoulder. The entire article pointed out that Hagrid, besides his infatuation with dangerous creatures, was half-giant. Harry mouthed the point to himself and then shook his head. The thought just didn't mesh. Ron paled a moment, but Harry just scoffed.
"Clearly Hagrid didn't get that set of genes."
Ron paused a moment, and then shrugged. "Maybe his creatures are the most dangerous things about him. He's certainly more dangerous than most of them, if he could ever stop being so infatuated with them."
Harry laughed, and flinched as Professor Grubbly-plank summoned their attention again. Draco's smile fell away as Harry and Ron didn't seem to care about the article at all, and he returned to his friends with a sullen glower.
After the class, the other students were enthralled with the lesson about unicorns, and Hermione was beaming until the article was placed before her. Neville, joining them at lunch, came over just as she finished.
"Hagrid's half-giant?" She whispered. Neville sat hard and stared, before grabbing at the paper.
"How the Hell did she overhear that? Bloody hell, that idiot …"
"Neville." Harry whined. He was dancing around something he knew that they didn't again. Neville flushed, and explained.
"During the ball, I wandered the grotto and came across Hagrid talking to Madame Maxine. He was asking her about her parents, because clearly they're two of a kind, and then the big oaf said it clear out loud that he was half-giant. I hadn't meant to overhear, but I didn't see anyone else who could have overheard. Not a soul, but she must have."
Ron glared at Neville. "And you didn't tell us?"
Neville merely glared back. "I wasn't supposed to have overheard it myself, Ronald. I'm not going to start blabbing it if it's unimportant. I didn't know someone else was going to do it anyways. It's not polite to just talk about that sort of stuff. How'd you like someone to play around that you're afraid of spiders if the whole class didn't already know due to Professor Lupin?"
Ron flushed, and growled. "Oh, and you never bothered facing it, did you? Neither you nor Harry."
Harry looked down at his plate and didn't speak, knowing without looking that Neville's eyes flashed. Only two people knew what Harry's boggart was, and that was Remus and Neville. Neither would ever bring it up, and Remus wouldn't have dared let him face that fear in front of other students, something Harry was infinitely grateful for. Neville had seen his as well, getting Harry's away, but his wasn't anywhere near as personal.
"Ronald, our fears are our own." Neville growled. "You volunteered; Harry and I met up with a boggart years ago, and Remus knows what it is. They're not something that would be best flaunted in front of the others, and it's not something we're going to share. Excuse me." Neville stood abruptly, and slapped Harry's wrist gently. Harry quickly grabbed his bag, a roll and cheese, and walked out with him, absolutely silent. They'd wandered up the corridors towards their Arithmancy class, and finally, after a long while, they stopped and Neville gently placed his hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Sorry about that. Ron was just being a prat."
"Neville, you don't have to explain yourself to me. I was there. I know."
"Harry …"
"Neville, just don't." Harry shrugged out of the touch and moved to the wall beside the door, fishing a book out of his bag and glancing over it without seeing the text. Neville stopped fighting him and leaned against the far wall in silence himself. Harry didn't want to talk about it. Neville had never managed to get him to, and if Harry got his way, he never would. As much as Neville had included himself with Harry, they weren't even on the same level. Neville's wouldn't have hurt had the class seen; it was just Death Eaters. Remus never would have hurt James' reputation as to let the class see that his son feared him, no matter how convoluted the reason.
IIII
January brought a Hogsmeade weekend, and Harry was very glad to go. Neville had once more attached himself to Hermione, much to her delight, and drifted off on their own, leaving him with Ron to wander through Zonko's and Honeydukes before heading to the Three Broomsticks to meet up with Neville once more. They had barely taken their seats when they were set upon by a tall, thin woman with blonde curls and a precise face. Harry recognized her from his father's repeated grumbling about reporters: Rita Skeeter. She made it clear why she was there very quickly.
"Harry Potter! Why, I've had a delightful time interviewing your father. But here we have it, you're at Hogwarts and you are currently represented by an underage Slytherin in the Tournament. I've heard you and Prince are at each other's throats. Do you have anything to say in particular about him?"
Harry felt rather surprised she hadn't backed off from his glare; he was pulling on everything Alan had ever told him about how to make people back off, but he supposed reporters didn't often heed those warnings. Ron looked annoyed as well; anyone close to the ministry would have something to say about Ms. Skeeter, and little of it would be good.
"No, Ms. Skeeter. I don't have anything to say to you."
"Why not? He's certainly not doing you any favours, boy. He cheated his way in, and now he's already cheated on the tasks. The little snitch shouldn't even be in there, and he's got himself set up for a thousand galleon prize and national recognition. Such a prize should only go to those worthy."
Harry gave Ms. Skeeter a chilly smile, thanking every deity he could think of that Ron hadn't jumped and said something he shouldn't have. Even if Harry had hated Alan, he wouldn't have turned him over to this harpy.
"Why Ms. Skeeter," Harry sweetly drawled, "I'm sure you old housemates wouldn't like to hear you talking about them that way."
Ms. Skeeter's smile took on the same chilly edge his held. "I see you have the same attitude as your father, Potter. Well, do you have anything to say, Wesley?"
"It's Weasley." Ron growled. "And no, I don't. I wouldn't say anything to a person like you even if it is about a Slytherin. Even they don't deserve your writing."
Ms. Skeeter stood abruptly and gave them a brilliant smile. "Marvellous. I'll see you around, then." She swept off quickly, her photographer following with hurried steps, passing Neville and Hermione on their way out. Both came over without any preamble, and Neville gave Harry a concerned look.
"You alright? Lemme guess, she wanted dirt on Prince."
"Of course." Harry smiled brightly. "Who else do I hate enough in the school to have an opinion I might give to a bloodthirsty harpy? Well, Draco, but I'm sure Lucius is coating her pockets every chance he gets so she'll leave him and his alone unless something really juicy comes up."
Harry was cut off by a cold growl from the doorway.
"Look, you slimy insane bitch, back off, shut up, and cut the shit before I cinder your bag and quill, and unravel your robes. I don't have time to deal with twisted and malignant leeches, so let me past before I flambé you. I don't have time for delicate manoeuvring among politics, so back the fucking Hell off."
The entire room in the Three Broomsticks looked up as Alan stormed in and glanced around. Apparently all he was looking for was an empty table, as he stalked to the first he saw, and sat down abruptly. Unfortunately, Rita came back in and went over to him. Her approach didn't last, as Alan growled in frustration and slammed to his feet, stalking back out towards the door. Rita grabbed his arm as he passed, and he turned a glare darker than anything Harry had ever seen before on her. She didn't even flinch.
"Does the name Amber Callough mean anything to you, Prince?" She asked. Her tone was too innocent. Harry heard the name and froze. Rita could not be that stupid. She couldn't.
However, Harry had the view to see Alan's glare not move an inch, but his body changed from merely angry to absolutely cold instantly. It looked like he'd relaxed, but oh … Skeeter mustn't have been Slytherin to not heed the warning, or else she was just that stubborn.
"Ms. Skeeter." Alan intoned. His voice was oh so calm, simply velvet lined steel. "If you do not want to lose more than you have, you will cease and desist, and you will leave me the fucking Hell alone. Pursuit along those lines will gain you more hostility than you can handle from more fronts than you could hope to tackle. Back off, you stupid bitch." Alan finished in a growl, ripping his arm from her grasp and turning and striding out the door once more, brushing past Ginny and Blaise on his way out. Blaise didn't even look at him, although Ginny did in curiosity. He merely looked at Ms. Skeeter, and turned around to leave, whispering something in Ginny's ear. Ms. Skeeter was too focused on her zooming quill to bother.
Harry knew that Alan was going to be attacked by her eventually for all his brusqueness, and he hated the helpless feeling engendered by his inability to defend his friend. However, apparently he wasn't the only one feeling that way.
"That horrible bitch." Hermione growled under her breath. "Attacking him like that, when he was just trying to get by. C'mon, I don't want to sit here with her; let's go do something productive, like drag Hagrid out of his hut. He's been hiding way to long, and for that stupid bitch's attitude."
Harry gratefully followed Hermione out of the pub, Neville and Ron trailing behind. Once they reached Hagrid's, Hermione pounded loudly on the door.
"Hagrid, open this door at once! No one out here right now cares your mother was a giantess, Hagrid, so open up and let us in! Don't you dare let that horrible Skeeter woman's attitude affect you; she's not here, so open this door!" She hollered.
Finally, the door was pulled open, and Hermione prepared to continue her lecturing until she saw that it was Dumbledore. She looked sheepish for a moment, until Dumbledore pulled the door open wide and waved her and the others in. Harry and Neville went, and both took a seat by Hagrid's sides.
"Hi Hagrid," Harry stated. Ron and Neville echoed him, and Hagrid, seated on his bed in the corner sniffled loudly and waved back. Dumbledore merely nodded and magicked more tea and cups about before taking a seat himself.
"I presume you heard what Ms. Granger was shouting outside, Hagrid?" Hagrid nodded slowly at Dumbledore's benevolent tone. "Judging by their attempt to break down your door, I'd say these children still want to know you."
"Of course we do, Hagrid!" Ron insisted. "You just …"
"Need to tone down the danger level." Neville finished. "Not everyone's as big as you, so the kids can get frightened by the huge animals you bring in. But that's completely unrelated to you being half-giant, Hagrid. That's certainly not going to turn me against you." Neville finished, smiling.
Harry put his hand on Hagrid's knee. "Hagrid, you can't change who your parents are, but what you got from each of them is distinct and unique. I think it's blatantly clear that whatever your mother gave you, it's not dangerous or cause for concern and neither can you, nor should you change it. You're still a good friend."
Hagrid blew his nose loudly into a handkerchief and put a hand in turn on Harry's shoulder, making Harry wince and sag in his seat uncomfortably.
"I hear you, all of you. But … but you're not half-giant. Not everybody wants me back …"
Harry shrugged out of Hagrid's hand, and stood in front of him, glaring. "Hagrid, not everybody will ever be in agreement. Hell, people don't like my dad and the way he behaves, but he's not hiding. Neither's Sirius, or Remus. Do I have to lose another teacher just because people don't think you're the right breed to be able to handle kids? I never thought race was a matter; I sure as Hell wouldn't want Mr. Malfoy or Filch teaching me, and they're fully 'human'. I'd much rather a werewolf, or a half-giant. Hell, I'd take a full-blooded giant if it could teach! This is all so stupid! Bugger this stupid attitude of wizards; they're a bunch of stupid loonies!" Harry raged.
Hagrid watched Harry rant with a look of surprise, as did Dumbledore. Coming down off of it, Harry flushed, and stepped aside with a mumbled apology. Dumbledore shook his head.
"Things like those need to be voiced, Harry. The world does not realise the injustice we perpetrate in our desire for everyone to be the same. Thank you."
Harry didn't look at Dumbledore as he listened. He wasn't sure he wanted to know that Dumbledore thought him brave for saying that, and for voicing his opinion. He'd not had a high opinion of Dumbledore for years after overhearing a howler sent to him before second year while Dumbledore was visiting at the Longbottom house. He'd found out later the howler had been sent by Alan's aunt and uncle, but ever since then he'd been cautious around the old man. Now, as he grew, he was finding out many different things, and he didn't know what to do with his opinion anymore.
"I will not accept your resignation, Hagrid, and expect to see you at breakfast on Monday, no excuses. Good evening, children." Dumbledore swept from the hut, leaving Harry with his friends to finish off reassuring Hagrid. Harry did so with a faint thoughtful air, and said little, even on the trip back up to the castle.
A/N: There! No really big cliffy. See, I do love you all. Thank you so very much to those who reviewed! I want to especially thank 'Beware of trips' - thank you for reading from the beginning, and all your reviews! A big hug to you!
Next chapter in two weeks. The Second Task, and other interesting stuff. Please read and review!
Fire & Napalm