Disclaimer – I solemnly swear that JKR owns everything Harry Potter. Whether or not I am up to no good with her characters is for you to decide.
-oOoOo-
The Fourth School
Chapter 29
Rita Skeeter was bored. Oh, that wasn't to say that her evening hadn't been filled; really, how could it not have been when she'd crashed THE event of the year: The Yule Ball.
She'd arrived early, on the jacket of one of the British aurors no less, and quickly sped into the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The fact that she was a water beetle animagus could be so incredibly useful.
She'd been able to zip around the Hall all night, listening in to conversation after conversation. As couples began wandering out to the enchanted rose garden, she'd followed, hoping to spy a dalliance or two that was worthy of her time and penmanship. All evening she'd zipped between the garden and the Hall, eavesdropping on the notable personages in attendance: Dumbledore, Bagman, the Champions – Diggory, Krum and Delacour – even the three other Heads of school.
And by the time that twelve o'clock was nearing and the ball was winding down, Rita came to the realisation that she'd spend a night wasting her time. Oh, if she'd been a writer for Witch Weekly or something, then she would have had enough material to fill an entire issue – who was dating whom; who was wearing the best dresses; who was wearing the most atrocious formal wear (a Weasley, definitely, but the jury was still out as to whether it was the youngest boy or the twins); which dalliances in the secluded rose garden were a trifle daring …
But in terms of the scandals that she was expecting, nothing.
There were far too many aurors from three different countries, not to mention a horde of security goblins stationed just about everywhere in the Hall and rose garden for anyone to even consider doing something news or gossip worthy.
And worse still, Harry bloody Potter hadn't even bothered to show up!
The fact that Dumbledore and Potter were at odds was well-known in the Wizarding world. The fact that the two of them were expected to be in the same room for a night had had her mouth-watering with the potential. And then, nothing!
The closest that she'd come to gossip-worthy news was that Potter's girlfriend had been on the arm of some unknown boy. If worst came to worst, she was sure that she could make something of it, but still …
Seeing McGonagall gathering her students and staff, Rita decided to pursue the one vague story that she'd found.
Beating her wings as fast as she could, she flew up and above the crowd, her eyes on her target below. At the door to the Hall, the unknown boy paused to say 'goodbye' to the Weasley twins and their dates. It was just the opportunity that Rita was waiting for.
In a well-practiced manoeuvre, she folded her wings back and dropped down to land in the boy's sandy-blonde hair. As quick as a flash, she buried herself in it before creeping down the back of the boy's head to hide against the nape of his neck.
The jolting of her hiding place indicated that the boy was on the move.
"You first, Mister Evans," she heard McGonagall say.
This was obviously the boy's name as Rita felt him continue on from where he'd briefly paused.
"I'll be right behind you, Hadrian," a female voice that she recognised as the Granger girl whispered into the boy's ear.
"See you on the other side," Hadrian said cheerily. "Potter Haven!"
The next thing Rita felt was the heat of the flames of the FLOO, followed by the dizzying whirl of the activated FLOO system. The boy, Hadrian, stepped forward once they'd arrived and Rita waited for her chance to escape to find somewhere to hide where she could observe where she was and, more importantly, what was going on around her.
The FLOO sounded in rapid succession as more and more of the Diricawl contingent returned home.
Rita had just begun working her way out of the forest of hair that she was buried in when she got the shock of her life: the sandy-blonde hair was turning jet black!
"That feels better," the gravelly voice of Hadrian began before morphing into something else, just like his hair. "Being taller and more muscled like that really messes with my centre of gravity."
"And yet you didn't trip once, Harry," the Granger girl replied, a light chuckle in her voice.
"Only because I'd been practicing so much the last couple of weeks," this new voice replied.
Her hiding place was jostled then as a hand slipped into the black hair that was surrounding her, only narrowly missing her beetle form.
"Oi, cut it out, you two, you've had all evening to do that," a different voice said.
"One evening is not enough, Nev," the voice that Rita thought belonged to Hadrian replied.
"Come on, Neville, didn't you say something about needing to check on your plants in the greenhouse?" an unknown female voice asked.
"I'm positive that he certainly did not!" a voice that Rita thought belonged to the renowned Augusta Longbottom stated. "It's time that all of you were in bed. And that is your own beds, if you please."
"Yes, Gran," the boy called Nev or Neville replied. "Night, Harry, Hermione."
"Night, Neville," the two replied simultaneously.
Harry? Rita thought, her eyes widening the miniscule amount that they could in the form that she was in. Surely not!
In a flurry of wings, Rita shot out of the black hair and up towards the ceiling. Finding a convenient painting, she landed on its frame and scuttled around until she could she the room below her.
"It's a shame that you couldn't go looking like this, Harry," Granger was saying. "I would have much preferred to spend the night in your arms rather than 'Hadrian's'."
"I know, Hermione, but it just wasn't safe," Harry Potter replied. "You saw how Dumbledore was when we arrived."
"I know, but still …," Granger sighed.
A lop-sided grin appeared on Potter's face. "Are you sure that you don't prefer me looking like this?"
As he was speaking, Rita watched his face change, his hair lengthen and lighten and his entire physique alter from the scrawny Boy-Who-Lived-Again into a taller, well-muscled Adonis. A slap on his new chest from the girl changed Potter back into his usual appearance.
He's a metamorphmagus! a stunned Rita realised as the two left the room hand in hand.
She was so gob-smacked by the unexpected revelation, that she nearly missed her opportunity to leave the room. It was only by some very fast flying that she was able to make her way through the door before it was shut.
Now this could be the start to a beautiful story, Rita thought.
Diricawl Academy of Magical Studies had been a closed book to the wizarding world up to now. No reporter had been allowed in since the start of the school year and all that was known about it was what was reported when she herself had been given a tour prior to that. But now Rita was in with the rest of the night ahead of her to explore.
And after seeing one secret, she had high hopes that she'd find a whole lot more before the inhabitants woke for Christmas Day.
-oOoOo-
The thump of an unexpected weight landing on Harry's midsection jerked him awake Christmas morning. His startled eyes stared at the ginger fur-ball staring back at him from mere inches away.
"Hey, Crookshanks," he gasped. "Can you get off; I really need to use the loo with you sitting on my bladder like that."
A satisfied blink and a cat smile preceded the half-kneazle standing and trotting fully on to the bed. As soon as he was free, Harry scurried out from under the covers and headed to the bathroom.
"I take it Hermione's up and wants her presents?" Harry called over his shoulder.
If Crookshanks deigned to answer, Harry never heard as he shut the door behind him. He emerged some minutes later, wrapping a large maroon terry-cloth bathrobe around him. As he tied it closed, he crossed the room to find his slippers; the floor was cold in the middle of winter.
Picking up his glasses, he allowed his eyes to morph back into their natural state before putting them on.
"Well, shall we go down for presents and breakfast?" Harry asked the cat sitting on his bed, its fluffy tail neatly wrapped around his front paws.
A fluid jump from the bed to the door followed by a bushy tail standing erect as he padded towards the door was his only answer.
"How'd you get in here, anyway?" Harry asked as he opened the door.
Once again, Crookshanks declined to answer.
The sound of voices chatting and laughing away drew Harry down the stairs and into the front sitting room. He paused in the door, taking in the scene, a small smile on his lips.
A massive tree had been set up in the middle of the back wall, the star on top only just shy of the ceiling above it. Garlands of silver and gold rope were draped artfully around, not just the tree, but the entire room. Baubles and twinkling lights and fairies galore completed the decorations on the tree. Sprigs of holly and mistletoe were dotted here and there – on walls and in doorways, and lit candles throughout the room added to the Christmas air.
"Harry!" Hermione cried, getting to her feet from where she'd been laying on the rug surrounded by Lil, Daphne, Susan and a pile of discarded wrapping paper.
"Merry Christmas," he called as she raced across the room towards him.
He caught her around the waist and spun her in a circle, kissing her soundly.
"Merry Christmas," she finally replied, having been placed back on her feet.
"Merry Christmas, Harry!" a half dozen other voices called.
"Merry Christmas," he replied.
Apart from the group of girls lazing about on the floor, he saw Hermione's parents, Minerva, Remus, Beth and Mickey seated on chairs throughout the room.
Wrapping one arm about her, Harry led Hermione across the room.
"You wouldn't happen to know how Crookshanks got into my room this morning, would you?" Harry asked quietly.
The innocent look on her face was enough of a dead giveaway to answer his question.
"Would you like your presents, Harry?" Hermione asked instead.
"Presents?" Harry asked, looking around. "But what about the others?"
"Hey, if they're going to waste the day asleep, I say it serves them right to get their presents late," Lil stated, a sentiment that was unanimously agreed upon by all those there.
A pop behind him turned Harry around.
"Would Harry Potter Sir be liking his present now?" Dobby asked hopefully.
"Sure Dobby," Harry grinned. A quick summoning charm aimed at the base of the tree brought a gift into Harry's hand. "I have one for you, too, Dobby."
As usual, Dobby's bright green eyes teared up at the thought of something so kind being directed his way. Harry was going to wait until Dobby had opened his gift first, but the way that the little guy was standing there staring at him with such an expectant expression on his face abused him of that notion.
Carefully, Harry undid the sticky-tape on the bright yellow and red, badly-wrapped present. Inside, he found not just the expected pair of hand-knitted socks, but a pair of mittens, a scarf and a beanie as well. Every single one was a different colour – blue and yellow socks, red and purple mittens, a white and green beanie, and a scarf with every colour under the rainbow longer than Harry was tall.
"I love them, Dobby," Harry exclaimed, immediately wrapping the scarf around his neck four times before it was short enough not to trip over. "Go on, open yours."
And Dobby did, tearing into the wrapping paper with abandon. His tennis ball sized eyes widened even further as he beheld the black leather satchel embossed with the Potter crest on its flap. The outside was filled with a half-dozen pockets and zips, and when Dobby opened it up to look inside, the house elf's entire head disappeared into the inner compartment.
"The inside's ten times bigger than the outside and all of the pockets have space expansion charms on them, too," Harry told him.
"Dobby loves it!" Dobby exclaimed leaping forward to wrap his arms around Harry's legs.
Kneeling down, Harry returned the hug.
"A bit different than last year, hey, mate?" Harry asked, surreptitiously looking around at all of the people in the room.
Dobby's ears flapped, he was nodding so hard. "Dobby thinks this is better."
"So do I," Harry agreed.
"Come on, Harry," a grinning Hermione said, grasping his hand and pulling him towards the rug in front of the tree.
"You'd best do as you're told, Harry," Dan Granger called from across the room, "Hermione's never been one to wait for presents. Especially at Christmas."
As he flopped onto the rug amongst his friends, Harry gave his hair a shake, turning the tips of his black hair red, green and white.
"Nice. Very Christmassy," Susan commented.
Harry grinned at her before delving under the tree looking for the small black box bedecked in silver ribbon that he'd hidden in the depths of the pile of presents. Feeling the right shape, his hand closed around it and he scuttled backwards.
"Merry Christmas, Hermione," he said, presenting her with her present.
"Thank you, Harry," Hermione replied, darting forward to give him a quick peck before turning her attention to the box in her hands.
Within seconds, the ribbon had been sent flying and the top of the box pulled off, before the thin gold paper was peeled back.
"Oh, Harry, it's gorgeous!" Hermione breathed.
Ever so gently, she lifted out the silver chain, allowing the silver book-shaped locket to dangle freely. Twin elaborate 'H's' had been etched on the front of the book, almost like a title.
"Open it up," Harry insisted.
Each side of the inside of the locket held a magical photo of them, photos that were currently smiling and waving and sending kisses at their counterpart.
Snapping the locket closed, Hermione held it out to her boyfriend.
"Put it on for me?" she asked.
Getting to his knees, Harry shuffled around until he was behind her, the ends of the chain dangling from his hands. Then, as Hermione held her hair up, he slipped the locket around her neck and affixed the clasp. Feeling daring, he took advantage of her hair being out of the way to steal a quick kiss onto the back of her neck.
"Harry!" Hermione squealed, then, quieter, "my parents are sitting right there, you know!"
Harry's shrug earned him a playful slap before she reached behind her to grab up and pass his present to him.
As was his habit, Harry carefully undid the tape, making sure not to rip the paper. Presents were still too new, too exciting, to destroy even something innocuous as the wrapping paper. Once the paper had fallen away, Harry found a small black leather satchel. Raising one eyebrow at Hermione in curiosity, he quickly unzipped it, Inside, he found all of the tools that an advanced rune carver or warder would need to etch into even the hardest surfaces like marble, along with a book on Warding.
"Wow, Hermione! This is great!" Harry exclaimed.
"I'm glad you like it, Harry," she smiled, "after all of the rune-work and enchanting that you've been doing, this seemed like the next logical step."
The two embraced then, their lips automatically coming together.
"That's enough, you two," Dan groused, "there's more presents still to open yet, you know."
-oOoOo-
The rest of the day passed in a blur of food, laughter and fun.
Harry and Remus joined forces to prank a still sleeping Sirius, turning his black hair white and giving him a beard that Dumbledore would be proud of in conjunction with an enormous belly. Their last touch had been to charm all of his clothes red before they left the room that he was sharing with Remus. Unfortunately, the prank dissolved into nothingness when Sirius spent the day pretending to be Father Christmas, 'ho, ho, ho-ing' all over the manor and singing the most outlandish Christmas carols at the top of his voice. It took Minerva silencing the man and performing a sticking charm on the seat he was in to give everyone at least a bit of a reprieve.
The manor itself had never been so full: the families of every student turned up for the festivities, staying for dinner and beyond. Snowball fights galore were held out in the yard where teams built more and more elaborate magical forts with turrets and 'moats' and magical catapults and delighted in either banishing snowballs at their opponents or charming them to round corners in search of their prey.
Due to the extremely late night the night before, the festivities wound down early and everyone who'd been at the Ball was in bed before the moon had even risen.
All in all, it was the absolute best Christmas that Harry'd ever experienced, as evidenced by the massive smile that he was still wearing when he nodded off to sleep.
-oOoOo-
The mood in the dining room of Potter Haven during breakfast of Boxing Day was the polar opposite of the day before. And the sole reason for it lay on the front page of The Daily Prophet.
Boy-Who-Lived-To-Lie-And-Gather-Power
by Rita Skeeter
You've all read the accounts, I'm sure, not to mention seen the fashion that was on display at Hogwarts two nights' ago at the TriWizard Cup Yule Ball. But, dear readers, I'm sure that you were left with one burning question, just as I was.
Four schools were invited to the premiere teen event of the year and four schools attended: Hogwarts, Durnstrang, Beauxbatons and Diricawl. And the most famous faces of each school were there, well, almost all. Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived-Again, was most conspicuous by his absence.
All throughout the Great Hall of Hogwarts, lips were asking the same question – where is Harry Potter? And what were we told, dear readers? That only those who had wanted to come from Diricawl Academy were in attendance, leaving us with the impression that The-Boy-Who-Lived-Again didn't want to come to his old school.
But, this investigative reporter knows exactly what you want answered, dear readers, and that is why I personally chased down those answers. And what I found has been most shocking indeed.
The truth is, dear readers, that Harry Potter was at the Yule Ball. How, I hear you ask? No, not with the use of charms or transfigurations or even polyjuice potion. It seems that our dear Harry Potter is a metamorphmagus!
For those of you unaware of what that is, it means that Mister Potter has the ability to change the features of his appearance – hair, eyes, build, facial structure – with a mere thought. It is exclusively an inherited trait, a trait that has had a tendency to show with the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, a House that Harry Potter's grandmother was born into.
What does this mean? Well, dear readers, it means that Harry Potter could walk down the middle of Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade and we would be none the wiser. It also means that I find myself wondering about all of these 'interesting' branches of magic that Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived-Again, has woven around himself. We already knew from two years ago that he is a parselmouth (a wizard with the ability to talk to snakes); he's the first wielder of a magical staff in centuries, a relic that he found in the fabled Chamber of Secrets; now we find out that he's a metamorphmagus; and then there's the fact that he's studying another obscure branch of magic in the animagus transformation.
There is also the fact that Diricawl Academy is on the move. Yes, dear readers, not satisfied with their already hidden location, the staff and students of Diricawl Academy have decided to move to Ynys Crochenydd, the ancient island seat of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, where they can expand from a dozen to potentially hundreds of students.
One simply has to wonder exactly what it is that Harry Potter intends to do with this influence that he's accumulating over our vulnerable young, especially in light of his 'interesting' abilities.
Never fear, dear readers, I will continue to investigate this case and bring you reports as soon as I have them.
-oOoOo-
A/N – Thank you to everyone who voted and expressed their opinion of what they'd like to see Harry's animagus form be in this series. I have now closed the poll, adding in those extra votes that I received either within reviews or by PM. Unsurprisingly, the top two were also the most common animagus forms for Harry throughout fanfiction, and these two were only separated by 1 vote after over 300 votes had been cast.
