Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 2
Harry kept his left hand in the pocket of his robe, absentmindedly playing with the torn apart letter from Sirius as if he wanted to be sure all the time that it remained there. It also helped him to stop paying attention to comments spoken behind his back. He was still chewing on the remnants of his lunch, almost ready to meet Daphne in the Library. He gulped down the last piece of meat that he ate and tried washing away the potential unpleasant smell with the pumpkin juice. After finishing his drink, Harry stood up from the bench and put his bag on his shoulder, heading towards the Library.
Lunchtime was a quite peaceful moment of the day, and the Great Hall wasn't nearly as crowded as during the welcoming feast or even breakfast. There were a few people from different Houses sitting here and there, either done for the day, meaning that they could already enjoy the weekend, or getting ready for their last classes of the week. Even with the distraction in his pocket, Harry still felt the stares on his back as he made his way through the Great Hall, heading towards the exit. I guess I'll just have to get used to it, he thought. The prospect of speaking to his godfather that night was one of the rare positive aspects of his life at that moment.
After reaching the first floor and walking along the corridor, Harry reached the entrance to the Library. He stepped aside when someone exited it, to make a room for a small group of second-year Hufflepuffs. He almost received 'thank you' from one of them before they saw who it was that allowed them to go first. They think I'm trying to steal Cedric's glory, Harry thought before opening the heavy wooden door and entering the one place in the castle he never would have thought that he would enter willingly and without Hermione at his side.
Madam Irma Pince was sitting at her desk, as usual, overseeing who entered her Library. Harry greeted her with a small nod of his head; she returned his gesture while pressing a finger to her lips, reminding him to remain quiet while staying in her small kingdom. Harry nodded his head again and started making his way through the Library, looking around in the side alleys to find the Slytherin girl he was supposed to meet somewhere there.
The Hogwarts Library was a huge place. While it was difficult for Harry to estimate its actual size due to the numerous bookshelves standing everywhere, he had little to no doubts that the room itself could rival the Quidditch Pitch in terms of area. He smirked after picturing himself flying on the Firebolt amongst those shelves. He was sure that Madam Pince would get a heart attack if it ever happened.
Deciding to search for Daphne in the area dedicated to Potions, Harry left the main alley and entered one of the side ones, looking for the section where the Slytherin girl was most likely to be found. The Library was mostly empty; during his search for Daphne, Harry stumbled upon only half a dozen students, somewhat surprised that Hermione wasn't amongst them. Usually, that's how she would begin her weekend.
After a few more minutes of walking between the numerous bookshelves, Harry has finally reached the Potions section. He smiled upon noticing that he was right. Daphne was sitting in one of the comfortably looking armchairs, right next to the window. Rain was gently pattering against the glass; the sound, Harry had to admit, was somewhat calming, and it suited the Library perfectly.
"Greengrass," he greeted her, whispering her last name. Despite passing Madam Pince right at the entrance, he was sure that if he dared to speak louder, she would appear right behind him, ordering him to leave the Library.
"Potter," Daphne also replied in a whisper. Her attention was focused on a book that she was holding on her knees. A small piece of parchment was lying on it, most likely serving as a place for notes; she was holding a quill in one hand, biting softly at its end.
Harry sat down next to her in an empty armchair, placing his bag on a table in front of him. He took out the Potions textbook and flipped through its pages, searching for the assignment from Professor Snape. He found it after a few seconds and placed it on the table while hiding the textbook back in his bag.
"So, what should I be looking for?" Harry asked her after rereading the short description of the potion they were supposed to work on.
"Try browsing the first-year textbook," Daphne told him, pointing at one of the books that were lying on the table. "I've already scanned the third year," she informed him. "And I'm in the middle of the second year."
"Any progress?"
"I've marked a few potions that look promising," she said, gently nibbling on her quill. "Though I'm still not sure about them. Mostly about the part that our potion can be found in the elder's homes."
Harry nodded his head in understanding and picked up the first-year textbook. Following Daphne's example, he started browsing through the potions that they've learned about during their first and second term at Hogwarts. Each time he read a description of a potion, he compared it to the information they've received from Snape.
"I think I've found something," he announced after almost an hour of sitting in silence and reading. Daphne lifted her head to look at him with a raised eyebrow, seemingly not believing that he managed to do that after such a short time.
"Do you now? Show it to me," she said. Harry handed her the textbook, pointing with his finger at the potion he just read about. Daphne accepted the book and started scanning through the description of the potion. "The Sleeping Draught?" Daphne asked him. She furrowed her eyebrows, contemplating Harry's proposition. "I must admit I didn't have that one in my mind during classes," she commented, nodding her head slowly as she started seeing the reason behind Harry's decision. "Though it seems too obvious to me," she added after a few seconds.
"Why?" Harry asked, leaning over the armrest to look at the text in the book. He pointed his finger at the description of the potion. "Look, it matches the Snape's description perfectly," he said, moving his digit along the lines in the textbook. "It turns dark purple when brewed correctly and can easily be used by the Healers to aid their patients to fall asleep quickly. Also, if someone is having troubles with falling asleep, this is a perfect solution and doesn't have any dangerous side-effects."
"And it is a weaker version of the Draught of Living Death," Daphne said, nodding her head slowly, seeing the reason behind Harry's words. "And there is also a very similar potion used by the Healers – the Dreamless Sleep Potion. But I think we should compare it with the other positions that I've marked. Just to be sure," she added, unused to being bested by someone when it came to homework. Ever since their first year at Hogwarts, Daphne and Hermione were on an imaginary war in terms of grades. When it became common knowledge, Fred and George even started making bets on who would have the higher grades.
"As you wish," Harry said, leaning back in his armchair. He took Daphne's notes and compared them with the contents of the first-year textbook. Indeed, the Sleeping Draught was not on her list, but he still marked two other potions that were in the book he was holding.
"I don't think the Antidote to Common Poisons can be so easily found in the houses of elder people," Harry argued with one of her suggestions, reading the potion's description in the third year's textbook. "And it's not dark purple but teal," he noticed, gesturing at a short sentence in the description. Daphne huffed at that, straightening herself in the armchair.
"Do you even know what is the teal color?" she asked, casting daggers at him with her eyes. Harry chuckled slightly, scratching the back of his head.
"Not purple?" he suggested, unsure if he guessed correctly. Daphne huffed again.
"You're lucky. Teal is a mixture of blue and green," she informed him, crossing out the name of the potion from her piece of parchment. Harry chuckled gently once again, shaking his head. "We now have to prepare an explanation on why we believe the Sleeping Draught is the correct potion," she informed him, putting away the irrelevant textbooks.
"Saying that it is the only one that matches the description won't be enough?" Harry suggested. Daphne began shaking her head even before he finished speaking.
"No," she countered. "I mean, it is important that the potion matches Snape's description, but I would honestly be surprised if saying 'all the points check out' would be enough to allow us to brew this potion," Daphne said, looking at him from above her notes. Harry groaned heavily, hitting the backrest of the armchair. He wiped his face with his hands, blinking furiously a few times. "Chin up, Potter," Daphne said after seeing his reaction. "I'm almost a hundred percent sure that we've made much better progress than anyone else in our class."
"Even Hermione?" Harry countered jokingly, earning himself a small snort from the Slytherin girl.
"I don't think she would be willing to spend time with Crabbe outside of class," Daphne replied; her usual smirk was slightly more noticeable.
"That won't stop her from working on this assignment, though," Harry countered. As if on cue, the unlikely pair heard a small gasp coming from the main alley of the Library. They both turned their heads in that direction to see who was reckless enough to disturb the silence that reigned over Madam Pince's kingdom, only to find Hermione standing there, with two or three books pressed tightly against her chest. She was staring at them from across the distance that separated them; her lips formed an 'O' shape. Harry swallowed hard as he made an attempt to stand up from the armchair he was occupying, but Hermione turned out to be quicker. She turned around on her heel and disappeared behind the numerous bookshelves, destroying any chance of Harry finding her in the maze that was the Library. Still, it didn't stop him from standing up from his armchair.
"Don't bother," Daphne whispered from behind him, effectively stopping him in his tracks. Harry turned around to look at her, only to see that her attention was once again focused on the book. "Perhaps she felt cheated on, seeing you studying with someone else, but she has to learn to accept that," she commented with a small trace of mockery in her voice. Harry raised an eyebrow at that.
"She's my friend," he protested, causing Daphne to lift her head. Similarly to him, one of her eyebrows was raised as well. "I'm sure that for a Slytherin it's an alien concept, but she's important to me," he continued, slightly raising his voice. Daphne's gaze hardened at his words, and her eyes started casting icy daggers at him. In opposite to their first conversation in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry refused to shiver. After all, he faced much more dangerous things than the girl sitting in front of him.
"Really?" she questioned him. "Are you two back on speaking terms? Because I believe I've seen something entirely different during breakfast today. Maybe if you two landed in Hufflepuff, she would still be by your side," Daphne spoke venomously. Harry gritted his teeth. "Is she your girlfriend or something like that?" she asked before Harry managed to say something in response.
"What?" he asked in disbelief, taken by surprise by her question. "No! She's like my sister."
"Then, once again, don't bother, Potter," Daphne replied, still glaring at him. "I have no desire to interfere with your little love triangle, but if your so-called friends are willing to abandon you without a problem, then you shouldn't bother yourself with trying to maintain this 'friendship,'" she said, making an air quotation over the last word. "Because, apparently, it never truly existed," she added, leaning back in her armchair.
"Then perhaps your 'above-average perception skills' are not as high as you would like to believe," Harry countered, using her own words against her. "Because both Ron and Hermione are my closest friends!"
"Are or were?" Daphne asked, continuing to glare at him. "Because it sure didn't take much for them to start ignoring or even hating you, Potter."
Before Harry managed to come up with a response, he felt a gentle tap on his left shoulder. He turned around quickly, hoping that, perhaps, he would see Hermione standing behind his back. He couldn't have been more mistaken, though. His eyes met a stony glare of Madam Pince. The intensity of her gaze was amplified by a shadow cast by her ridiculous hat. Her lips were pressed in a tight line, and her expression was a mask similar to the one Snape always wore.
"Out," she said simply, looking at Harry. She was a centimeter or two taller than him, though, in that situation, it seemed like a dozen or so centimeters. Harry bowed his head and began collecting his belongings, throwing them into his bag. "You too," Irma said, directing her gaze at Daphne. The Slytherin girl straightened herself before gathering her stuff as well.
The two began leaving the Library, still feeling the stony glare of Madam Pince on both of their backs. They walked in complete silence; an echo of their footsteps accompanied them during the entirety of their walk through the main alley. After what seemed like an eternity, they exited the Library, disappearing behind the heavy wooden door. After reaching the Grand Staircase, they both started walking in separate directions – Daphne was heading back to the dungeons, and Harry was walking upward to the seventh floor, returning to the Gryffindor Tower.
"For your information, Potter," Daphne called out without turning around to look at him. Harry stopped in his tracks but refused to turn around as well. "Friendship is not an alien concept to me," she said before storming down the stairs, making her way back to the Slytherin Common Room. Harry didn't respond in any way.
"Balderdash," Harry said after reaching the portrait of the Fat Lady. The painting didn't say a thing as it moved away, revealing a hole in the wall. He bowed his head and walked through it, entering the Gryffindor Common Room.
A few people from his year were sitting there as well as some of the older years, mostly gathered in front of the fireplace. Ron and Hermione were sitting there, immersed in what looked to be a heated conversation. Ginny was accompanying them, as well as Fred and George. Neville and Dean were sitting a few meters away from them, though they also seemed to be a part of their conversation. Although, as soon as they've noticed him entering the Common Room, all the chattering died out.
Harry looked at them one at a time, thinking about Daphne's words. Could it be that their friendship didn't mean to them the same as it did to him? A painful realization gripped his heart after a few seconds. If it wasn't the case, they wouldn't abandon him so easily, but they would be at his side, as he had always been for them. But, perhaps, both Ron and Hermione had a different understanding of friendship in general? Ron had siblings, and Hermione always seemed to be more interested in books than other people. Maybe for them, it wasn't as important as it was to him. Maybe Greengrass was right, he wondered sadly. Maybe it never existed, after all.
Harry approached the fireplace, refusing to look at either of his Housemates and emptied the left pocket of his robe. He observed as the small pieces of Sirius' letter vanished in flames. He checked the watch that was standing at the far wall of the Common Room. He had over seven hours before his godfather wanted to speak to him. Deciding that getting some rest would be a good choice, Harry turned around and started heading to the Boys' Dormitory.
"You were with the Ice Queen today," Ginny called out after him, causing Harry to stop dead in his tracks; her tone sounded accusing. He slowly turned around to face the small group of Gryffindors. Apparently, Hermione decided that it was too important information not to share it with the others. Is that what caused them to finally acknowledge me? That I've spent time with someone other than them when they wanted to have nothing to do with me?
"And?" Harry asked, not understanding what was wrong with it. Ron huffed after hearing his question, shaking his head.
"First, you cheat your way into the Tournament, and now you're spending time with the snakes?" Ron commented, standing up from the sofa he was sharing with Hermione. "Perhaps you really should have landed in Slytherin. Apparently, you would be welcomed there."
"Have you hit your head over something?" Harry asked in disbelief. "In case you haven't noticed, Snape ordered us today to work in pairs on an assignment. Mixed pairs!" he reminded him. "Or have you already forgotten that you had to work with Malfoy? Or that Hermione is supposed to work with Crabbe?" Harry asked him, pointing his finger at their bushy-haired friend. She looked away, refusing to meet Harry's gaze. "And Snape himself has told us that we should work on this assignment not only during classes or we won't manage to complete it in time. Well, I'm sorry that Greengrass and I decided to put House differences aside and get a head start on this assignment. I prefer to do it as soon as possible and not be forced to focus on the Potions with the First Task almost upon me," he seethed out angrily, earning himself another huff from Ron. Harry turned his head to look at Hermione; Daphne's words were still echoing in his mind. "Is that really what made you finally acknowledge me? That I was studying with someone other than you?" Harry shook his head in disbelief when Hermione once again refused to meet his gaze. Without another word, he turned around, and started walking up the stairs that led to the Boys' Dormitory.
After reaching the room, Harry threw himself at his bed, refusing to acknowledge Seamus, who was occupying his own mattress. The Irish boy also chose to ignore him, which suited Harry just fine. He crawled onto his bed, hiding behind the curtains that surrounded him.
Despite wanting to get some rest before he would speak to his godfather, Harry knew that he wouldn't be able to go to sleep at such an early hour. Instead, he pulled out the Marauders' Map that was safely hidden inside of his bag. For a few minutes, Harry simply stared at the empty parchment instead of activating it. A sudden thought crossed his mind, urging him to pull out the photo of his father and his friends. As was always the case, he smiled slightly upon seeing the interaction between the three Marauders.
"I solemnly swear that I'm up to something good," he whispered, touching the Map with the tip of his wand, intentionally saying the wrong words. His smile grew wider when he read what appeared on the previously empty page.
Mr. Moony would like to approve Mr. Potter's honesty, but it's not this item's purpose. Harry chuckled weakly. It was still hard for him to understand how someone as rule-abiding as Professor Lupin could be a member of the Marauders. Mr. Wormtail would like to warn Mr. Potter about voicing out loud such intentions. Harry's smile faded away from his lips. He wished there was a way to erase Pettigrew from the Map. Mr. Padfoot would like to encourage Mr. Potter to get rid of the wand in his ass and start living life. Harry had to actually grit his teeth to avoid laughing with full strength. Mr. Prongs would like to ask Mr. Potter to hand this parchment to someone funnier.
Harry reread the last sentence a few times, feeling his eyes glazing over. After a few seconds, the statements of the four Marauders started fading away, leaving behind only a blank page. So, Professor Lupin wasn't lying when he told that this Map is going to insult anyone who wishes to read it without knowing how, he deduced, recalling the time when Snape tried to force the Map to cooperate. The young wizard blinked a few times to get rid of the tears that started gathering in the corners of his eyes. He picked up the photo from his father's stag party and looked at it, once again feeling the smile finding its way onto his lips.
"I promise I'm going to fuck shit up," he whispered, once again touching the empty Map with the tip of his wand. This time, the messages were different.
Mr. Moony would like to ask Mr. Potter why he thinks such foul language is necessary to accomplish mischief. Yep, that's Professor Lupin, Harry commented in his mind. Mr. Wormtail would like to…, Harry didn't even bother to read Pettigrew's message. Mr. Padfoot would like to high-five Mr. Potter. Mr. Prongs would like to have a pint with Mr. Potter as he seems just like his kind of man. As long as he solemnly swears it.
"Harry?" someone called out shyly from the room. Harry quickly hid the photo of the three Marauders and hid the Map below the covers. "Are you there?"
"Yeah," he replied. A few seconds later, someone poked his head through the curtains that separated his bed from the rest of the Dormitory. It was Neville. "What is it?" Harry asked, refusing to look at the other boy.
"I just… I just wanted to say that you shouldn't hold it against them," Neville spoke nervously, swallowing hard. "Ron and Hermione, I mean. They just… They don't know how to deal with this situation, you know? But they'll figure it out sooner or later."
"Trust me, Neville, I don't know how to deal with this situation myself," Harry replied, toying with his wand. The other boy nodded slowly his head in understanding.
"I believe you, you know?" he spoke after a few minutes of awkward silence. "That you didn't throw your name into the Goblet, I mean," Neville clarified after seeing a puzzled expression on Harry's face.
"Thanks, Neville," Harry replied, finally looking at the other boy. "You're one of the rare, actually," he added. Neville nodded his head slowly.
"I think more people believe you, but they are just afraid of saying it out loud, to be honest," he commented, looking down on the floor with something on his face that resembled shame. "I believe that's the case with Hermione."
"Then why is she ignoring me?" Harry countered, hoping that the shy boy would provide him with answers he so desperately wanted. "She didn't say a word to me since the Goblet has chosen me and only really acknowledged me today when she saw me studying with Greengrass. I get it that girls are different than us, but I'm pretty sure that it doesn't mean that she believes me."
"So, you really were with her in the Library today?" Neville asked, suddenly changing the topic. Harry shook his head and sighed loudly, not believing that he also was going to accuse him of something.
"Yes," he confirmed through gritted teeth. "As I've said earlier, we've agreed to work on this assignment today after classes, big deal," he huffed.
"No, no, no, that's not what I've meant," Neville countered, recognizing Harry's offended tone. "It's just… I wanted to warn you," he said, causing Harry to raise an eyebrow.
"Because she's a Slytherin?" he asked in disbelief. He had to admit that he was surprised to see Neville shaking his head in denial. "Then why?"
"Did you hear how she has earned herself the title of 'the Ice Queen?'" he asked. Harry only shook his head. He believed that it was due to Greengrass' cold attitude towards everyone else, though he never gave it much of a thought. After a few seconds, he realized that it was strange how everyone started calling her by that title quite recently. Neville glanced backward as if he was afraid that the infamous Slytherin girl was standing behind him, waiting for him to say one wrong word. "There is this rumor, you know, from the last year," he whispered, earning himself a chuckle from Harry after he heard his conspiratorial tone. "It is said that it happened approximately at the same time as Malfoy's injury, and that's why no one was focused on it that much. But I've heard from a few girls gossiping that one Slytherin from an older year, Marcus Flint, cornered Greengrass, and wanted to… you know," he trailed off, allowing the implication to sink in. Harry's eyes widened as he slowly connected the dots.
"And what happened next?" he asked, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer. Neville, once again, looked around to make sure that Greengrass wasn't standing behind him.
"It is said that she cast a Freezing Charm on Flint's… little flint," Neville whispered. Harry was staring at him with wide eyes, slowly processing the information. After a few seconds, a small smile found its way onto his lips, which was quickly mimicked by Neville. It wasn't long before the two boys burst out laughing.
"Are you serious?" Harry asked, still laughing at the information he's just heard. Neville nodded his head, not yet able to regain control over his body. After thinking about it for a few seconds, Harry realized that Marcus Flint was walking somewhat… strangely for the majority of the first term the previous year. Or maybe it was just his imagination? He wasn't sure.
"I mean, that's what I've heard from Lavender and Parvati," Neville replied after calming down a little. Harry chuckled again.
"That would certainly suit her," he commented under his breath.
"What is she like?" Neville asked suddenly. Harry shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know. I haven't talked that much to her, to be honest. But she seems to be… normal," he replied after a few seconds of wondering. "Definitely not what I would have expected from a Slytherin," he added, earning himself a nod of the head from Neville.
"Well, I can say the same about my partner, to be honest," Neville commented, scratching the back of his head.
"Who are you paired up with?" Harry asked, suddenly realizing that he truly didn't know the answer to that question.
"Blaise Zabini, you know, the quiet one," Neville informed him. Harry nodded his head. "I have to say that he's alright as well. I feel kind of sorry for Ron and Hermione, to be honest. I wouldn't want to end up working with Malfoy or Crabbe. Lavender doesn't have an easy time too, to be honest. She's working with Parkinson," Neville said, causing Harry to groan heavily. Thinking about it once more, he truly had a stroke of incredible luck that he was paired up with Greengrass. "Did you already figure out your potion?"
"I think so," Harry replied, straightening himself on the bed. "We believe that it's a Sleeping Draught. And you?"
Neville shook his head before answering. "We have a few ideas, or rather, Zabini has. You know, I'm not that good with Potions. But we didn't manage to do it before Snape dismissed us. But we should figure it out soon enough."
Harry nodded his head. "Look, Neville, I don't want to be rude or anything, but it's been quite a long week, and I would really like to get some rest," he said after a moment of silence.
"Oh, no, don't bother, it's not a problem," the other boy replied immediately, backing away and stepping outside of Harry's curtains.
"Hey," Harry called out after him before Neville managed to disappear entirely. The other boy turned around immediately. "Thanks. I mean it." Neville smiled slightly at him.
"It's no big deal, Harry," he replied before disappearing behind the curtains.
Harry laid there motionlessly, listening to the sounds coming from the Dormitory. He waited patiently, once in a while checking his clock. He didn't trust himself enough to go to sleep. He was afraid that he would sleep through the hour when Sirius wanted to contact him. So, he just kept lying there, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling, listening as others, one by one, went to sleep.
After Merlin knew how long, Harry checked his watch. It was five minutes before one o'clock. The only sound coming from the Dormitory was gentle snoring, coming from the other boys, but Harry couldn't identify which ones. He quickly picked up the Marauder's Map.
"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good," he whispered, watching as the Map came to life, showing the entirety of Hogwarts. He flipped a few pages of the map until he reached the Gryffindor Tower, wanting to make sure that the Common Room was empty. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw that no one was there. Slowly, he stood up from his bed and left the Dormitory.
Even though the Map didn't show anyone nearby, Harry was still cautious as he walked down the stairs, avoiding making any sound. The last thing he wanted was to explain to someone from his House what he was doing by the fireplace in the middle of the night.
"Sirius?" he whispered, looking around the Common Room, but he didn't receive any response. Harry walked past the sofa that used to be occupied by Ron and Hermione earlier that day. He really shouldn't have been surprised when he noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet lying on an armrest, right next to the spot where his former best mate used to be sitting. He picked it up, finding the photo of himself.
Harry Potter and the Triwizard Cup
Harry Potter, age twelve, suspect entrant in the Triwizard Tournament. His eyes swimming with the ghost of his past and choking back tears…
He rolled his eyes, crumpling up the copy of the Daily Prophet, knowing well that he wouldn't find a single piece of accurate information about himself, maybe except for his name. He threw it into the fireplace before sitting down on one of the empty armchairs.
As he watched as the flames devoured the paper, a strange sound reached his ears, coming from the fireplace. Harry furrowed his eyebrows before leaning in closer. After a few seconds, a few sparks and small pieces of the newspaper were launched into the air, accompanied by a puffing sound. He watched for a while as the wood and coals in the fireplace were slowly changing their layout, forming a face. After a few seconds, Harry realized that it was his godfather's face. His eyes widened at the sight.
"Sirius?" he asked in disbelief. He corrected his glasses to make sure that he was seeing correctly. "How…?"
"Hey there, Prongslet," Sirius greeted him, smiling widely from ear to ear. "I don't have much time, Harry, so let me get straight to it – did you or did you not put your name into the Goblet of Fire?"
"No!" Harry exclaimed, surprised that his godfather would even ask him that question.
"Shhh," Sirius shushed him. It took Harry a second to realize that he wasn't as quiet as he was supposed to be. He looked around cautiously, making sure that no one was there with him in the Common Room. "I had to ask," Sirius justified himself. "Now, tell me about this dream of yours. You mentioned Wormtail and Voldemort, but who was the third man in the room?"
"I don't know," Harry replied shamefully, shaking his head.
"You didn't hear a name?"
"No," he said, shaking his head once again. "Ummm, Voldemort was giving him a job to do, something important," Harry recalled.
"And what was that?" Sirius queried.
"He wanted… me," Harry said after wondering for a few seconds. "I don't know why, but he was going to use this man to get to me. I mean… it was only a dream, right?"
"Yes," Sirius whispered slowly as if he was unsure of what the answer should be. "It's just a dream. Look, Harry, the Death Eaters at the World Cup, your name rising from that Goblet… these are not just coincidences. Hogwarts isn't safe anymore," he spoke quickly.
"What are you saying?" Harry asked, shaking his head.
"I'm saying that evil is inside of these walls, Harry. Igor Karkarov was a Death Eater, and no one, NO ONE stops being a Death Eater," he emphasized. "Then there's Barty Crouch - heart of stone, he sent his own son to Azkaban."
"Do you think one of them put my name in the Goblet of Fire?" Harry asked, slowly beginning to understand the implication hidden behind Sirius' words.
"I haven't a clue of who put your name in that Goblet, Harry, but whoever did, is no friend to you. People die in this Tournament," he revealed; Harry was shaking his head before Sirius even finished speaking.
"I'm not ready for this, Sirius," he protested.
"You don't have a choice, Harry," Sirius whispered weakly. "You have to keep your friends close, Harry. Ron and Hermione should always be there for you. Don't turn them down at any point."
"I'm afraid it's too late for that, Sirius," Harry muttered. He glanced backward, hearing something from up the stairs leading to the Dormitories.
"What do you mean?"
"Ron and Hermione don't believe that I had nothing to do with my participation in this Tournament," Harry explained. "And now, they just… ignore me. To be honest, practically the entire Hogwarts believes that I have cheated my way in."
"Is there really nobody who believes you?" Sirius queried with worry in his eyes. Harry was about to confirm before he remembered his earlier conversation with Neville. And Greengrass, he remembered.
"There are two people," he replied after a few seconds of silence. "Neville Longbottom and Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin."
"Greengrass?" Sirius asked, wanting to make sure that he didn't mishear. Harry nodded his head in confirmation. "So they lived," he murmured to himself, but Harry still heard him.
"You know her?" he asked surprised. Sirius shook his head.
"I know her parents. To be honest, there is a great chance that I know the parents of most of your peers, Harry," Sirius replied. "Especially if their parents are wizards or witches."
"What did you mean by saying 'they lived?'"
"It's a story for another time, Harry," Sirius replied, shaking his head. "Don't turn down her friendship, Harry, neither Longbottom's. I hope it won't come to that, but I'm afraid that you won't be able to survive this Tournament on your own. By the way, before I forget, Remus sends his regards," Sirius said, smiling softly. Harry raised his head upon hearing it.
"Wait, you've heard from Professor Lupin?" he asked hopefully. Sirius nodded his head slowly. "How is he?"
"Remus is a… mess right now," he whispered. "He stays with me, but we barely talk to each other."
"Why? What happened?" Harry asked. Once again, he turned his head after hearing an echo of the footsteps on the staircase leading to the Dormitories.
"Now is not the time, Harry," Sirius whispered, also hearing the footsteps. "Suffice to say that, if things go right, we'll see each other soon enough. Now go!" he ordered. As soon as he said these words, the woods and coals in the fireplace returned to their normal position.
"Who were you talking to?" Harry heard Ron's voice behind his back. He turned around to face his former friend.
"What?" he asked in return, pretending he didn't know what he was talking about. "Who says I was talking to anyone?"
"I heard voices," Ron protested, crossing his arms on his chest.
"Maybe you're imagining things," Harry suggested, leaning back against the sofa's backrest. "It wouldn't be the first time," he added. Ron huffed at that.
"You're probably just practicing for your next interview," he commented, causing Harry to roll his eyes. With that, Ron turned around and walked up the stairs, heading back to the Dormitory. Harry watched his retreating form until the other boy reached the top of the staircase. When he was sure he was gone, he turned around to look one last time at the fireplace, hoping that Sirius would be there again. Unfortunately for him, the only thing in the fireplace were the embers.
That's it for today. I hope you've enjoyed it. If you were so kind as to leave a review, I would be honored. You have no idea how much those help me, especially in the beginning. Answering a comment from plums: I don't think my paragraphs are too big. If you don't like it, then I'm sorry, but it's just my writing style, and I doubt I'm going to change it. See you in the next update!