Author's Note: I do not own Harry Potter
They had been standing, almost to attention, for the last 30 minutes upon the expansive lawns of the Hogwarts grounds as they awaited the arrival of the two foreign schools. The rain above them was being removed as a threat by the constant spellwork from the staff members dotting the scenery.
"I wish they would just bloody hurry up," grumbled a shivering Fay beside Harry, who chuckled lightly at her griping.
"It must take a long time to get from wherever they are to here. Must be a bit of a trek."
"Doesn't mean we have to be stood here," she continued. "We're going to be seeing them throughout the year. Can't we, like, delay this for a few hours. I'm tired and hungry, Harry."
They were aligned by house and year, with the seventh years at the front in a line, followed by the sixth and so on. Ravenclaws stood to the left, with Gryffindors to their right, Hufflepuffs next, ending with Slytherin on the right. Right at the front, the teachers were stood in their own line, the Heads of Houses directly in front of their students, with Albus Dumbledore ahead on his own.
Harry had positioned himself directly behind Katie, who was turned slightly to her side so that she could talk to her friends (Harry).
Fay straightened up when she saw McGonagall twist her head sharply in her direction, pupils becoming slits; Fay grew a sheepish look and appeared to shrink into her robes, grumbling as she did.
Katie turned back to the front, but with the quiet murmuring that had already spread among the students, she had to raise her voice slightly to get Harry to hear her. "Bet it'll be nice to see what these new students will be like, eh?"
Harry smiled. "If they're anything like Viktor, then I'm sure we'll have a great time."
He knew that it was a source of contention around his friends. They had an image of him that he could be considered naïve and childish in his approaches, even if he were known to be mature in many other ways. It was a promise that he made to himself though when he had first met Hagrid… or even before. To have someone treat him as a person, with friendship and care, and show affection that he enviously wished to have in Dudley's place. He had sworn that he would never let the red darkness surround him like he saw in his relatives – nothing would take his integrity and will away from him. From this, and to the present, he had unconsciously desired to have the connections that friends would bring, and the concept of meeting new people fascinated him. Viktor had become a fast friend, even if only over owl delivered letters, and he wondered if the others would treat him the same.
"Harry, McGonagall," Neville hissed from the other side of Fay.
Harry glanced over to his Head of House, who's lips were a thin line. He swallowed slowly, and mouthed a 'sorry, Professor,' over to her. She simply shook her head, but Harry definitely saw the twitch of the corner of her lip. As his gaze drifted over to the Black Lake – something set of a tingle in the back of his neck as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion – he caught Vector's wink, which once again caused his cheeks to redden, and Snape's scowling face as he glared right at him in disgust.
Harry forcefully shoved the thoughts of the sour Professor out of his mind when the tingling sensation became almost like sandpaper reaching into the depths of his brain.
This time, his sight was drawn to the sky. He squinted through his lenses, idly contemplating the potion regime that Sirius had all but forced him on to improve his eyesight, and stared at what appeared to be a large carriage being drawn by enormous, winged horses as it barrelled towards the castle.
He could hear the students shouting as the teachers attempted to calm them all down to no avail. Harry listened to the sound of his friends as they expressed their amazement but took no note of their words. 'Magic really is amazing.'
The flying carriage turned its path this way and that, slowing down almost like a plane's descent, even the carriage wheels came from underneath in an unseen mechanical sequence as it prepared to land.
It hit the ground with a loud thud, and Harry's heart began to beat faster and faster. He tried peer through the ranks of students to no avail – his limited height failed him once more. He saw the top of a large door open, with a large woman descending down what must have been some steps. With the height of the door, he was able to partially see the French students as they took their first steps onto Island soil. They appeared to be dressed flimsily, in clothing that looked silky and more suited for fashion than the cold weather of the Norther British Isles.
He also noted their objective beauty. He was aware of how some people can be aesthetically pleasing in their looks. He could cite people such as Professor Vector, Dora, Cedric, and some of the nameless students who he had never really interacted with. He saw the beauty in his friends as well, but with all of these people he never really understood how someone's facial and bodily structures should impact attractiveness. People such as Greengrass and Malfoy revelled in the attention that they believed their looks brought them, and their attitudes were reminiscent to the smug swaggers that the Beauxbatons students brought with them. It made Harry slightly uncomfortable, but internally he considered that maybe they did not realise. Culture differs in expression, and Harry was not one to judge someone's worth so immediately and lightly.
There was a slight gap between Houses, and there were many a gawping face when the newly incorporated teens almost glided through the middle of the four houses up to the castle entrance.
Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were to Harry's right, and were commenting with quiet giggles upon the arrivals as they floated on by. Harry simply had his head half turned, idly looking at them as he overheard the condescending tones that he understood, if he did not their languages. He knew that Beauxbatons was located in France, but it was not the only French school, only the best. His research into the magical world had drawn information that the predominant attendees were of French, Belgian, Italian, and Swiss backgrounds, so he was not shocked when a French phrase overheard was responded to by a thick Italian accent in slower speech than the first.
They were interesting, that much was certain. Although he wondered, accidentally aloud if the raised giggles from the girls surrounding him were of any evidence, why, when he could see them all shivering dramatically, they were not using their magic to cast warming spells.
It seemed as though one or two Beauxbatons students heard him if their piercing glares were of any indication, though he brightened when he detected the faint thrum of magic and swiftly hidden wands following the air heating up.
Then the commotion came.
A girl, at the back of the group, walked past with her braided silver-blonde hair swaying in an almost non-existent breeze behind her. She was tall, much taller than Harry was; she easily stood a foot taller than he. Her eyes were of a shade of blue similar to Katie's, but that was where the single similarity existed. While the expressions of Fay and Katie were warm and inviting, this girl's was hard and cold. Her nose was upturned, as if she smelled something awful on her way up the sloping hill to the castle portcullis. Harry could see that she was beautiful, as the girl exuded an unearthly aura, but he was not all that impressed with her. As she moved beyond him, he detected the faintest stum of her magic, his eyes widening slightly as he felt the sheer power of it. Something about her did not feel right. There was a continued sense of superiority that he thought could have even dwarfed Draco's.
A cry came from his far left. Harry looked over to where the younger student was pointing; the slope they were stood on gave way to a clear view of the Black Lake, where Harry stood in awe as a ghost ship rose from the depths of the murky waters.
It crested imaginary waves, an eerie sight to see as a sickly green vapor seemed to emanate violently from deep within the bowels of the ship. The hull scraped loudly against the sand and dirt of the lake shore, rumbled along the earth, and came to an immediate stop not too long later.
"Well, isn't that an entrance?"
Fred snorted at George's words. "Nah, dearest brother of mine. I daresay that we could make a much better one."
They stepped out and onto the ship's plank in sequence. The red and black and gold striking an impressive, near intimidating sight. The man who stepped out before them all, however, did not.
"Albus!" the man shouted. His yell echoing deep across the grass and water.
Harry could not hear the response from his own Headmaster as he made his way to greet him, but it did not matter as much. The contingent from Durmstrang made their way through the centre gap established by the Hogwarts students with more respect and admiration for their surroundings than their Beauxbatons counterparts.
"Blimey."
"It's him."
"It's Krum!"
Harry's neck could have snapped at the speed in which it turned as a voice called out of the ranks of fur clad Durmstrang students.
"Ah, Harry, is good to see you again."
The boy stepped out of line to a silent audience, walking purposefully towards Harry, who had easily settled and responded friendlily. "Viktor!" Harry reached his arm out to grasp his opposites. A hushed whisper reverberated near him. Harry had a reputation of disliking to be touched by many a person, so to see a brand-new figure be so easily accepted was not expected. "It's good to see you. How was the trip?"
"Not great. Was a storm on the North Sea. Many others were sick." The Bulgarian's grin was infectious as Harry easily mimicked it. "Come. Show us inside of Hogwarts. I only know Durmstrang, so I am interested. You will be a good guide?"
"Haha, of course, Viktor."
Hermione made an audible hiss, "We haven't been told we can go yet." But Harry was so wrapped up in his own world that he had completely forgotten that he was to wait in line until being dismissed. Hermione was the other end of the Gryffindor line, as well, so Harry had not been able to hear her complaints.
His friends simply stared, a few with concern – Katie with the most – and others with bemusement.
Fred and Alicia had to grab onto Katie's shoulders, placing pressure down on her so as to keep her from leaving before the prescribed time.
Neville turned to Fay, who was looking at Harry's empty spot with no little amount of shock at the events. "Well. It's never really boring with Harry now, is it?"
He yelped as Fay slapped his arm hard enough to bruise.
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Harry was seated at the Gryffindor table, the Gryffindor Circle surrounding him, all waiting for the Feast to commence. A cheery Dumbledore had managed to pull Harry aside before he managed to escort Viktor into the depths of the school. The aged Headmaster proceeded to award Harry 20 House Points for 'bringing a form of unity to different schools that is expected of the Tournament.'
The Beauxbatons contingent entered the Hall first, finding the Ravenclaw table to be their desired location. A majority of the students appeared to have superior countenances, their smug and arrogant features more aligned with the House of Green and Silver.
Hermione, who was sat with her back to the Ravenclaw table, her ever present shadow of Luna Lovegood seated with her back directly in line with the bookworm, had enough skill with the French language to snort derisively. This was followed by a blind pat on the back from Luna, who said something that Harry did not hear.
Zabini, over at Slytherin, accidentally crushed a glass goblet when he overheard a few Italian students laugh and point at something that Harry could not see.
"I guess it isn't just us that's gotten annoyed with the new guys," Katie mumbled, to which Harry responded with a slight nod of agreement.
"I'm sure they're just tired from their trip," he said diplomatically. "We can't just assume they aren't nice people just because of one meeting." He looked directly into Katie's eyes. "Imagine if I had done that to Sirius." The rest of his sentence was forcefully halted, but Katie and the rest knew the unspoken words. 'Or me.'
Her hand squeezed his own, and Harry heard a low sigh of relief come from her direction when he responded with just as much pressure.
The doors banged open, and Durmstrang entered, with their Headmaster and Krum leading the way.
Harry placed his knees onto the long bench, giving him more height so as to see over the tops of the heads of everyone else. He could see the Slytherins looking expectedly at the Star Seeker, but Krum noticed Harry looking over at him, and with a wide grin, made his way over to his new friend.
"Ah, Harry, okay for us to sit?"
Lions began to move instantly. The innate warmth and friendliness that the House seemed to exemplify coming forth to action as they began to separate and allow the new entrants to seat themselves at their table. Viktor Krum, of course, took a seat to the other side of Harry, smirking as he did when he saw Katie pull herself as close as possible to the boy.
The conversation started off awkwardly with most of the Gryffs. They were used to the boisterous behaviour and unrestrained attitudes of their simple honesties. The knowledge of the study of Dark Magic within Durmstrang was prevalent on everybody's minds. Yet they all saw Harry, the complete paragon of virtue within their House, talking to them like nothing was wrong. So, they followed suit, and little did they realise, lifelong friendships would be made on both sides.
A clanging sound eventually came from the High Table, where Dumbledore stood before them all.
"Students, new arrivals and old friends, I, and all of the Hogwarts residents, welcome you to you house and home for the coming year. I, of course, bid all children of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to enjoy yourselves, and enjoy the coming experiences you will all share. Madame Maxime, Master Karkaroff, I thank you for your attendance to the hallowed halls. And let us not forget, to Bartemius Crouch and Ludovic Bagman, whom without their great commitments, we would not all be within this room together at this time today." He waited for the calm applause to conclude before continuing, letting Bagman wave heartedly while Crouch simply ignored the attention, focusing instead upon some parchments he had placed in front of him. "Yes, yes. But," a darkness swept briefly through the Hall, and when the light returned, it was from a large, burning, goblet that was at the base of the steps leading to the High Table. Many an 'ooh' and 'ahh' was heard at the dramatics. "I wish for all of you to understand what is to come. All of you must understand what is to be expected of all who participate…
"There will be hardships. There will be glory. Do not take the age restrictions too lightly. The Triwizard Tournament will occur with the same fraught dangers that each one that has come before will have you endure. Participants have died in this event. I would like to say with certainty that this will not happen this year. But then, I would be lying. Enter at your own peril, for the horrors that may be endured could change you all. But the Goblet of Fire is now lit, and with it, comes the price. But the reward… a thousand Galleons will not be all you shall receive. Knowledge. Power. Will. Heart. These, and so much more shall be the light to come at the end of the tunnels of your adventures.
"But! Enough of the dark storytelling! Two words I shall say from here, and then no more. Tuck. In."
"I am guessing that you are going to enter," Harry turned to ask Viktor, who was eyeing up the food that had magically appeared with an impressed stare.
"Of course. I did not just come to this land to see you and have fun."
Harry laughed in his boyish way at his new friend's jovial tone. He introduced Viktor to his Circle, and he politely began to converse with them, rolling his eyes at Harry when Angelina and Fay blushed a deep red when he gave them attention. Harry simply responded in kind. He was not blind, as he had seen such responses when he was noted for his Quidditch prowess by others. And not just students. Though he still remembered the awkward conversations with Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw student, who mostly spoke with stutters.
Harry's Quidditch career was placed on the backburner at this point. He still attended matches with the league, but after the World Cup, his heart was not felt to be in it as much when he could compare it to now. His Seeker's Duel with Krum had been a highlight that he doubted he could ever replicate. His match the day before this one had lasted a grand total of 11 minutes. He had been bored the whole time, and the adrenaline that usually came with a match was almost non-existent now.
"Excuse moi?" Harry turned at the same time as Viktor as the people around him became almost silent. "Are you fineeshed wiz za Bouillabaisse?"
It was the girl that Harry had seen outside. A silver brow was raised expectedly at him. There was a look in her eye that he could not decipher; there was a hint of exasperation, arrogance, but also something more that had Harry feel sad for the briefest of moments. "Um, I'm sorry, which one is it?" She pointed sharply at a bowl of what Harry could only assume was a type of stew. "Oh! Yeah. I think only I gave it a try. It was okay, but not something that I think has been made by the Elves much before, because it isn't that great. If you want it, I don't think anyone else is having a try?"
There was a flash of surprise from the girl. All the others were near slack jawed as they stared at her. Even Krum – of course she knew who he was – had a glazed look in his eye that swapped between lucidity and absentmindedness every few seconds. "Oo are you?" The way she asked it was heard as rude, but Harry could see it was not truly meant as such.
"I'm Harry. Harry Potter." He withered slightly under her stare. A sense of shyness and his usual reservedness came into effect.
"Ah. 'Arry Potter?" She looked him up and down, passing the Bouillabaisse back to another Beauxbatons girl who was looked amusedly at the scene before her. "Really? Ze famous Queeditch player?" Her voice sent shivers up his spine, culminating in the back of his head in a pleasant sort of way. He could see Katie's eyes become almost like slits as her hand dug scratches into the wooden table. "Hmm. I do not know what I waz expecting."
The girl turned away, sitting back at her seat with an ignorant silence.
"Harry," Katie hissed in his ear, to the chuckles of Viktor on his other side. "Stay away from that girl. She's definitely bad news."
Harry could only nod, as the glazed over looks so many had around him drifted away to become normal.
"Ye-yeah, of course."
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The next day, Hagrid had let them leave his lesson a couple of hours earlier than should have been allowed, in order for the Choosing Ceremony to begin. Harry had left the large man with a bright smile and a small wave, following his best friends as they made their way back to the castle.
"What are your plans tonight?" Neville asked Harry.
He hummed in thought, his own head swaying slightly with the tempo of the clock tower above them. "Me and Katie are going to the place again. I know that they're choosing the Champions tonight, but…"
Fay wrapped an arm around one of his own. "You don't have to justify it to us, Harry. "
"Never," agreed Neville. "I-I know more than most what this night means to you."
Harry's face softened at his friend's downcast look. He reached a hand out to pat him on the arm; an almost sarcastic gesture for anyone who did not know Harry.
"Ah, Harry." A low voice came from behind them. Viktor Krum walked out from behind a corner, 3 other Durmstrang students trailing in his wake and a familiar seventh year Hufflepuff stood next to him.
"Hey there," came Cedric's jovial tone. "I was just showing these lot a tour of the castle. Breach divides and all that. I take it you won't be at the feast tonight?"
"Hmm? Vhy vill you not be there?" asked Krum.
"Well… it's a night… of mourning. For me, I mean."
There was an awkward silence for the briefest of moments. "Yeah, Harry spends tonight in a special place out on the grounds by the lake. Our friend, Katie, spends the time with him. Makes sure he's okay and stuff."
Neville snorted. "Eloquent, Fay."
"You try to explain that then!"
"Nah, I'm good thanks."
Krum shifted uncomfortably, turning to Harry who was shifting in place. "Ah, then I am sure ve vill see each other a new day instead. I am sorry."
"Please don't apologise for something you didn't know anything about."
His response was clipped but held no malice. He always felt tetchy at this time of year and wanted it to be over and done with, with no further concerns. Harry bid the others a farewell, headed directly to the Common Room, changed out of his robes and into some more comfortable clothing: jeans and a shirt courtesy of the eagle eyes of Dora Tonks.
Katie came down from the girl's dormitory close to 6 o'clock, a loose fitting, blue button up shirt and a long dark red skirt. The night was not too cold, and they were to be there a while, so the duo was happy to wear simple, comfortable clothing to 'enjoy' their night. Not that much enjoyment could be had with the memories that the night would bring to Harry.
"Are you ready?" Katie asked kindly.
'Did she always look so beautiful?' Harry thought to himself. The compassion he felt from her was almost angelic in nature, and his he could feel his heart bleed at the implications of her archetypical purehearted intentions. It was the same feeling he would gain from the affection that he would feel from both Sirius and Dora.
"Where are the others?"
"They're down at the Hall, I think. I'm pretty sure that Alicia and Angelina are still upstairs, so who really knows?" Harry's head bowed. "I've chosen to do this with you, Harry." She took calm steps toward him, her hands gently cupping his cheeks, tilting his head up to hers. "If I can use one night to help the shadow inside you, then, well, that is a night that I could never regret."
Harry could feel the warmth behind his eyes but swore that he would not release the tears that were beginning to build. He took her hands gently into his own, releasing one but retaining the other. He pulled her along in silence, ignoring the odd looks from students that passed them in the ensuing corridors, and disregarding the heated noises and excited atmosphere coming from the Great Hall. Harry and Katie had eyes only for their spot that was almost carved out for the two of them.
Neither were hungry this time. Katie sat with her back resting upon the magically altered stone, a strange comfort that could only be due to the modification that the elder Potter's had made so many years ago. Harry had his eyes closed and his breathing slow and steady; there was no sleep to be had here, only calm and togetherness that allowed Harry to gain some sense of closure in the one day a year he would be unable to forget his past. He was cocooned in Katie's embrace. He could feel her warm breath tickle the tips of his ears as a hand gently caressed his scalp. Her other arm was wrapped as tight as possible across his body as he sat with her front resting upon his back. Her legs were resting atop his own as he was almost sat in her lap. He felt a safety in this position that he could not explain and wanted to be conscious for the whole experience.
It could have been hours, days, or only minutes that ticked on by. Yet the simple, single, moment that seemed to extend forever had to be interrupted.
"Mr Potter… Harry."
He opened his eyes blearily and with disappointment. "Professor Flitwick?"
"There has been an… incident, that requires your attendance back at the castle."
"What's happened, Professor?" Katie was remaining silent. Her grasp had tightened against her friend, becoming a death grip that she would refuse to let slack for fear of what new curse could be brought to her Harry. "Dora? Neville and Fay?"
"They're fine, Harry. No one is harmed. Well, not yet at least. I am so sorry that I have to interrupt this, but the other Headmasters are preparing to explode, and if I have to listen to Severus for another moment, I may take up huffing the fumes he so frequently does."
Harry and Katie giggled at the (hopefully) joke. Filius Flitwick had that easy going, normative behaviour that all teachers should utilise. "Good."
By the time they made it to the Entrance Hall, Filius had been using soothing tones and humorous anecdotes to lull Harry into a sense of calm. "Harry, whatever happens in there, remember this. There are those who will use this as a way to get at you. Do. Not. Let. Them. Stay true to yourself and stay true to those who would support you."
"Professor, what's going on? Why is Harry being summoned here? I can't imagine McGonagall and Dumbledore, or even you for that matter, interrupt what you all know is an important time."
Harry felt her arm move along his arm, gripping at his sleeve with enough pressure to cause a pinch of pain. He knew she was right. He could see the stress in her eyes, and the way her pale face was paler than the norm.
Flitwick sighed as he rubbed his temple. "Harry, Miss Bell… You know what? Crouch, Snape, Maxime and Karkaroff?" He snorted uncharacteristically. "Even Albus, for all his wisdom. I don't know why they said not to say anything to you. Maybe some way of seeing your reaction when told, I presume. Some sick way to test your innocence. But you know what? Screw them.
"There is no easy way to tell you this, so I will just say it. Your name has been released from the Goblet of Fire as a fourth Champion."
There was silence. Harry's eyes were wide but prepared to accept his fate. "One year? It that not enough to ask, Professor?" His voice was dull. His words almost broken but resigned to what he knew he would have to endure. His sigh was thick with emotion that almost broke the Charms teacher's heart. "Par for the course by now though."
"No!" Harry and Flitwick jumped at the surprise of the sound. Harry span in place, twisting his form to view the Valkyrie that was Katie Bell. Her blue eyes had become a fiery ice – blazing with a cold fury as her pupils had constricted. The red veins of the whites in her eyes had burst in an electric haze, her teeth were bared, fangs ready to rip and tear as a growl extricated from her throat. He could feel her trembling, and hear her teeth grinding against each other. Her long, deep black, hair was rising and swaying as a crackle of magic blasted over him. He could feel her magic. The wooden portal that separated them from the roaring sounds of students in the next room began to crack and splinter behind the immense rage that Harry could almost touch. "Not again!" The door could only handle her shove with the barest of pressure. A human sized section of it tore asunder as a human incarnation of Enyo stalked like a predator into the room.
The girl (woman) stomped into silence the noise that had reverberated throughout the Hall. Quiet overtook them all; every face was turned to Katie, who no one had ever seen act in this way.
"Miss Bell-"
"Where are they!?"
"I do not thi-"
"I will not ask again!"
McGonagall shivered. A primal fear evaporating any sense of normality she could feel.
"I-" A flash of red and Harry surreptitiously put away his wand. Katie stumbled forward, Hagrid running over to catch her in his arms as she came unconscious.
"Please, Professor, tell her I'm sorry."
McGonagall looked down at her student. He was picking at his arms, rubbing his cheek vigorously as she could see his twitching and sweating even in the dim light. He was the centre of attention once more, and the fact he had to stun – a spell beyond what a fourth year should be able to perform, to her pride – Katie, of all people, had most likely injured his mind in some way. "I assume that Filius has told you?" A nod. Her eyes roamed across the hall. "Maybe we should take this away from prying eyes. The competitors, and others, await you in the Trophy Room."
Harry followed his Transfiguration Professor out of the side door and down some steps. The whispering had begun already behind him, and accusatory eyes glaring balefully at his back.
"For what it is worth, Harry, I do not believe that this was a plan of your own. Alastor, Professor Moody, has already said his piece. I am more than surprised that Igor Karkaroff is not a smudge on the wall by this point," quieter, "Or Severus."
The girl from the day before was stood by her large Headmistress, a dark glare directed straight at him. The torchlight made her eyes glimmer, and Harry felt a strange pull towards the girl that stroked the edges of his mind. 'Could she be Veela? I know they can have magic of their father if they were a Wizard, so it isn't too farfetched.' It was not something he wished to dwell on in that moment, however.
Friendly faces were mixed in with the doubtful. Cedric and Viktor were showing supportive looks, and the staff were giving reassuring smiles… for the most part.
"And here he is, the final Champion! What an amazing turn of events this is." The heavyset man was garbed in dirty yellow robes and was getting a bit too close for comfort.
"Mr Potter," the quiet man, Crouch, interrupted. "As I have discussed before your arrival, the contract is secure, and punishments, severe. You must compete as the fourth Triwizard Champion, and there is no question in this."
"I don't want to compete." His voice was quiet but calm. Dumbledore, Flitwick, and McGonagall flanking him to create a bubble fo safety. "How does this work if I didn't put my name into the Goblet?"
"Such a liar," the girl snapped. "I 'ave 'eard stories about your lies 'ere. Fighting a Basilisk? Somezing about a murderer loose in ze castle. Zose boys 'ave told me all about you, Potter. And now zis? What a joke."
"Anyway," coughed Crouch, "The magic of the Goblet of Fire esoteric in nature. Its potential has been lost to time, known only to its unknown creator and the Scribes of Amaterasu. However, the contract reveals such: Harry Potter is the final champion and must compete lest he forfeit something of equal value to be won."
"So, if I give a thousand galleons, then I don't have to take part?" he asked with barely concealed hope.
The man shook his head. "It is not just gold that can be claimed as a victor of this Tournament. Dumbledore did not explain it fully, but the prizes that can be won may be as random and chaotic as dreams. You may claim forfeiture, however, the loss you may suffer could be of something as inconsequential as money. Yet others, in the past, have lost limbs, eyes, even specific skills and knowledge. One had a sister, and when she got scared in between tasks, she surrendered to the contract. That sister was never whole again after that day. Do you understand?"
"Ye-yes, I do."
Bagman clapped his hands together loudly. "Great! Now that we are all caught up to speed, I will simply inform you that the first task shall take place on the 24th of November and shall test your courage and daring!"
It was a low, single pitch that pulsated in his head.
"Never thought I would actually be a part of your adventures, Harry." He looked straight at Cedric. "Don't worry, er, I know that the Puffs will be a bit annoyed, but I know you, Harry. I've been trying to tell the other two that you would never, ever, be a part of something like this…"
"It seems only I believe it," Krum grumbled. "I think I have grasp of you." Viktor heavily pat his shoulder, leaving with Karkaroff who was most likely sending evil glares at the two of them. "I shall see you?"
"Good night, Viktor," Harry answered with a calm that he did not truly feel. "And to you too."
Cedric looked as though he wanted to say something, but thinned his lips out and made a noise amounting to an agreement. "You don't want me to walk you back to your dorm?" He made a startled noise when he looked at Minerva McGonagall, "I mean, how would I know where it was? Never been to the Tower before. Nope."
Harry smiled, sharing it with McGonagall and Cedric as he left the room, waving his hand above his head in a gesture of farewell.
Only four were left, after Snape's evil glower, and Moody and Dumbledore's reassurances to him as they left most likely to the Headmaster's office.
"Come on, Harry. Let us get you away from here."
Harry did not know why the girl was still in the room. She was sharing a heated conversation in speedy French with Madame Maxime that he could not make heads or tails of.
"My name iz Fleur. Fleur Delacour." Harry enjoyed the way she spoke. There was an aura of calm in her natural inflection; the heavy accent in such an angelic voice reaffirmed the shivers that echoed down his spine. The attitude was a problem, however. One enough to put him off ever so slightly – more for fear of his own safety than anything else. "You and I are not friends. We are rivals now. If I 'ave to face a leetle boy, zen zo be eet. Do not expect me to be going easy on you, non?"
Harry nodded sadly. He had to leave this place. He could only hope that his friends would be more accommodating.
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The party in Gryffindor lasted until the early hours of the next morning.
"Heh, we know you would never do this, Harry. Anyone would be a blind fool to believe that you would willingly put yourself in danger."
Harry was sandwiched between Fay and Angelina. The younger refused to let him go, primarily out of a worry he never knew she could feel. The elder was giving simple reassurances. He knew she wanted to compete in the Tournament, and a part of him feared that she would leave and not come back because of the way things have transpired. But, once again, he was wrong. A proof that he still did not fully understand the innermost workings of the human heart.
Alicia had just wanted to celebrate, giving all her support to her little friend. Neville had nodded to him, knowing that the girls who had become ingratiated into their little family would be enough at this moment to care for him. There had been many a slow evening where Harry and Neville had just… talked. There had been more deeper conversations since Neville had revealed his dark secret regarding his family, and Harry knew that he would need to rely on the assistance of his best friend now more than ever.
The twins had managed to smuggle half of the kitchen's treat supplies upstairs; sweets, chocolates, cakes, sugar-filled drinks, and butterbeer and firewhiskey flew aplenty. Harry thought that the only event that he had seen rival this was the World Cup afterparty… barring the Death Eater attack, anyway.
Katie, who had awakened in complete terror, had not been enraged that Harry had calmed her down. Only tears had flown. Her eyes had not left his form since his return to the Common Room and the ensuing festivities. She was as still as a corpse, and no interaction could force her to move. Harry knew she cared for him, but even he was wary of the response she had formed. Although, a thought traced his mind. If this were how Katie was acting, how would Dora act when she found out? He predicted a barrage of letters heading his way in the near future.
Gryffindors stick together.
That was the motto for the night, and most likely, for the coming days. Harry did not know what the other Houses, or schools, responses would be to this perceived attack, but he did not expect it to end well. But, once again, the frame of mind settled in his head. The stress effect blew away the anxieties. This was the normal. The threat of harm, death, and pain were all so completely normal to his mind now, that the lack of stress would cause more intense stress.
He was in battle mode now, and he was hyper-focused on surviving to the end goal. So, he would endure this to the last. He had killed, fought a Basilisk to his near-demise, and been tormented by a soul sucking creature. There was so much that he had lived through. He would be damned if something this inconsequential would tear him away from this.
His eyes scanned the room. The twins were dancing away, chanting his name, and singing his praises, as Ginny laughed at their antics and blush heavily as she would glance over to him every now and then. Hermione had come over to give her shy support, an act that endeared the girl to him – 'She really has changed.' Even Ron Weasley had broken his silence. A different red headed boy stood before him now, and it was not one that he recognised since his start at Hogwarts. He had smiled when Ron had walked over to Seamus and Lavender, striking up an easy conversation after they first looked over in Harry's direction for a sense of approval. Angelina had kissed his brow, followed by one from Alicia and Fay as they fought over his attention, their unease palpable. Neville was off with other Lions, but he could see the worry and concern in his rigid posture and absent stare and false smile. And Katie. It would only be when he collapsed, weeping, into his pillow, that he felt his bed shift and a weight contact him.
Katie slid beside him, and the feeling on oneness he had had with Dora became real once more. She clutched him so tightly that he knew she cared. The emotion he felt, in that moment, was one he dared not voice lest the speaking of it shatter that potential into a thousand pieces.
Author's Notes:
A bit of a shorter chapter, but I only wanted to use these two specific days for this chapter. But the fun parts are starting to reveal themselves now, and I am definitely enjoying the writing now.
I sort of envision Veela's looks like Tolkien's elves. Beautiful and ethereal. So, if you imagine, for example, book Elves over film Elves, then that is the effect I am going with. Also, Galadriel was 6 feet 4, with Thingol being almost 8 foot tall! Most elves were about 7 foot tall, which is absolute madness really. Puts into perspective the general combat skills of the elves. Just imagine a thousand 7 foot tall, armoured warriors sprinting at you. Anyway, hope you enjoyed my portrayal of Fleur. I think she's a bit of a complicated character – mostly because there is so much of her that we know nothing about, just like Krum and so many others. One of the joys of FanFiction I guess, is the ability to paint in the blank spaces on the canvas that have been left there.
Anyway, Harry is to take part in the Triwizard Tournament. No change there. But… as you can see, things are not going to be going down exactly as they did in canon. Ignore Harry's attitude, mentality, etcetera. Then take a look at his budding friendship with Krum and his normal friendship with Cedric, for example.
Next Chapter: Weighing of the Wands