Chapter Two
"Dad." Harry stared at Severus the next night as he sat up in bed. They had spent the whole day not talking about what happened the night before, so Harry decided that now would be the time.
Severus seemed to know what Harry was going to say, because he sighed. "Not now Harry; go to sleep."
"No, now!" Harry said loudly. "Just tell me. Please."
Severus stayed quiet, standing still in the doorway. He slowly made his way back to the bed and sat down. "You know that what was conjured in the sky was the Dark Mark, correct?" He started as Harry nodded in response.
"Yeah, although, isn't it like the one on your…?" Harry paused, letting out a barely audible, "Oh."
"Everyone was panicking last night," Sirius's voice said. Harry looked away from Severus to see Sirius leaning against the doorframe. "It was almost like seeing Voldemort back."
Harry looked back at Severus. "Those were Death Eaters, weren't they?"
Severus nodded.
"This isn't good," Harry whispered. "Dad… they know you're a traitor. T—"
"Harry," Severus started, "go to sleep. We'll discuss this further tomorrow."
Sirius, with a faint grin, went over to Harry and kissed his forehead. "'Night, kiddo."
"'Night," Harry echoed. He watched as Sirius left, and then turned his attention back to Severus. "Remember what you promised, Dad," Harry said softly. "If you ever get called… you won't go." Harry paused briefly. "I love you."
"I love you too. Sleep."
Don't worry, Harry, came Slyther's sleepy voice. Snapey won't go if he ever gets called—you must tell me what you mean by that tomorrow, too—so you needn't worry."I know," Harry said in what he thought was a firm, certain voice. "I know. G'night."
-
"You're awfully quiet this morning, kiddo," Sirius observed, tilting his head as he studied Harry at the table the next morning. "Anything you want to talk about?"
Harry shook his head, keeping quiet. Then he met Severus's eye, and sighed. "Well… I just find it weird."
Sirius glanced at Severus before looking back at Harry, nodding slowly. "Oh—okay?"
"First my scar hurts," Harry started, and then was soon interrupted by Sirius.
"Your scar hurt? Why didn't you tell me? When was this?"
Severus scowled at Sirius. "You were asleep, Black. Obviously nothing wakes you, considering how loud Harry was that night. It only proves that you can sleep through anything."
Sirius returned the scowl, turning his attention back to Harry. "Okay, okay… continue."
"Well, my scar hurt, and then the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord's… sign in the sky at the World Cup?" Harry shook his head. "I'm… going to go see if Nathaniel's up yet."
"Harry."
Harry quickly glanced back at Severus before going up the stairs to his bedroom. He could hear Severus following—possibly even Sirius, too.
Something going on that I should know about? Slyther questioned as Harry came into the room; Severus following.
"We should be leaving for Hogwarts shortly."
Harry nodded. "I know."
"You also need to acquire your formal wear."
Harry looked up, frowning. "Yeah."
"You don't want to talk about it," Severus stated as he studied Harry's face.
Harry shook his head. "Not… not really. Maybe soon…"
"I understand." There was a pause. "Come downstairs and have breakfast, Harry; then we'll get your dress robes and you can say your 'goodbye's to Black before we go to Hogwarts."
That's right, Harry realized. Sirius wasn't going to be going to Hogwarts with them; he was going to be staying in the house. Harry wondered how Severus was going to keep a straight mind without wondering whether Sirius had blown up the house yet or not.
Although Harry knew that Sirius wouldn't blow up a house—at least, not on purpose.
-
"This is horrible," Nicholas breathed as the Sorting for the first-years came to an end. He sat by Harry and in front of Isabelle and Hermione—which, sitting at each others' tables, seem to be a habit between the two now. He eyed the food around him hungrily. "No Quidditch Cup?"
Startled, Nicholas's head shot up as the doors of the Great Hall flew open. Harry swiveled around in his chair to get a good look at who it was—for a moment, he could only hear a dull, echoing thunk, until he spotted a man with a scarred face; so scarred that it looked as if that was all his skin was. Scars. What caught Harry's attention, however, were the eyes.
One of his eyes were normal; the other was a brilliant electric blue and large. It moved in every direction heedlessly.
The Great Hall had become silent as the man, thunking each time, went up to the staff table.
"May I introduce," Dumbledore said, "Alastor Moody—your new Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor."
The next thing Harry knew, Nicholas was nudging him.
"Where'd you go off to, Harry?" he questioned, frowning.
"What? No where," Harry answered. "I was right here."
Nicholas gave Harry a look. "What did Dumbledore just announce?"
Harry faltered, at a loss. He wasn't really paying attention; he was more fascinated with the new DADA Professor. Then, he looked at Hermione, who soundlessly mouthed, "Tri-Wizard Tournament."
"Tri-Wizard Tournament?" Harry said out loud, frowning.
"Hermione told you," Nicholas said with a slight frown, then shook it off. "No, instead of the Quidditch Cup they're doing the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Listen." Nicholas nodded up at Dumbledore.
Harry began to tune in as Dumbledore was saying, "—a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry—Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took turns to host the Tournament once every five years, and it generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between—"
Harry glanced back over at Nicholas. A Tri-wizard Tournament? Severus had never told him about that.
"Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration," Dumbledore continued.
Beside him, Harry heard Nicholas let out a groan of disappointment.
"I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen." There was a brief pause from Dumbledore before he continued again. "The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning."
"I'd've wanted to go in the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Nicholas said as he and everyone else stood up. "No one under seventeen." Nicholas sighed.
"People have died," Hermione pointed out as she, too, stood up.
Nicholas frowned. "So?"
"People have died in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Nicholas."
Nicholas nodded slowly. "But that was ages ago, Hermione. Really."
Hermione sighed, giving up. She gave Harry and Isabelle a quick smile before heading back over with the Gryffindors.
"'People have died,'" Nicholas imitated Hermione. "Really, it's not as if somebody is going to die in this one."
Isabelle scowled. "Come off it Nicholas."
Nicholas gave Isabelle a look. "What? I mean it—d'you really expect there to be deaths in this Tournament?"
Isabelle ignored Nicholas, who gave Harry a shrug.
"Do you?"Harry returned the shrug. "I dunno. I hope not."
-
A/N: I do not really make up for my long, long absence in this chapter, but I hope to be updating more frequently! Thanks!