The Hell of Fourth Year.
Sirius, Remus - I don't know what the fucking hell you are doing, Charlotte began writing out the message in the messenger book, momentarily wondering if she should indeed swear in the messenger book if she needed help because she was out of her depth with the Tri-wizard tournament, but after a second decided it made little difference, but I need your help! Why aren't you answering me, so-called Godfather? You were never there for me during my life, but you promised you would be there for me always, so why are you fucking me around now? Please…I need your help and advice with the Tri-wizard tournament. I don't want to die because I'm not prepared. So please, prove to me for the first time ever my parents made the right choice choosing you as my Godfather by actually helping.
Charlotte knew she was crossing the line there, but she didn't care. She had already used the damn messenger book eleven times already over the past three days to try to get in touch with the two Marauders, but they never bothered to reply to her notes even though she knew they had received them.
What the fuck is going on?
Charlotte closed her eyes and mused. She was starting to see the two Marauders were not going to help her, and it was tempting to have Dobby take the messenger book back to the two useless dumb-arses with a scathing note sent off to the DMLE to have Sirius Black kissed so he was out of her life for good, but she decided to give him a chance. In any case, while it would be good to make Black and Lupin pay for refusing to help her, she had more important things on her mind right now. Life was becoming unbearable at Hogwarts now.
It had been four days since her name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. It was bad enough the entire school was taking potshots at her, both student and staff alike, which reminded Charlotte of how her second year had gone, but to make it worse a few of the foreigners had started picking on her as well, although thankfully most of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang mobs had opted to leave her alone. She didn't know and frankly didn't care about the reasons.
The teachers were useless, of course. It reminded her so much of how her second year had gone by, only worse. It didn't help every single time she saw McGonagall, the useless old hag refused to look at her with anything but that pinched expression on her mug. However, Charlotte had noticed a glimmer of what looked like pity and compassion in her so-called Head of House's expression, but what would have helped the most was if someone would set the record straight with the school, that way this mess wouldn't be happening. She didn't care if McGonagall was feeling uneasy about how this whole mess was going, she didn't care if the entire school was against her and that Dumbledore's eyes continued to twinkle every single time he witnessed the hell she was going through, and they were twinkling; she had seen it a dozen times. She had worked out she didn't have anyone in this school.
She had made a mistake.
She had gotten too comfortable at Hogwarts. Bad idea. She had learnt over the years never to get comfortable anywhere she went. It had kept her alive on the streets of London, and it had later kept her going because she had willed herself to live; all those near misses, when she had been a pickpocket, then later a home invader, and then a burglar. It had kept her going during those confrontations with Voldemort himself.
Have I really let my instincts atrophy here?
Now she had the whole fucking dump ganging on her and after her blood, so she guessed she had let her instincts atrophy in Hogwarts.
Never again.
Snape, typically enough, was enjoying the whole thing. He was enjoying taking off points left right and centre, and eventually, Charlotte had simply withdrawn from that fucked up class. It wasn't like she was learning anything, was it? Snape used the lessons to bully and degrade her, saying all that shit about her father, a man whom she had never met, but from what she had learnt was a worse bully than Snape could ever hope to be. The Gryffindors and Slytherins both made the lessons more toxic than they needed to be, so she was better off out. Then again, after how Malfoy had sabotaged her last potion, and some of the fucking lions had tried to poison her, was it really surprising?
Some of the teachers had joined Snape in throwing horrible comments about her around the school, which only stirred the pot even more against her. Charlotte did wonder if those teachers had been bullied by her useless father and his equally moronic friends, since some of those comments and snide remarks referred to her father, and her mum on those rare occasions. She didn't care, really; in her mind, what happened in the past had happened, there was nothing they could do about it, and it should stay that way.
Professor Sprout had become even worse to her and appeared to make Snape appear to be an amateur. It had become so bad she had simply decided not to bother attending Herbology classes, which made the soiled bitch take-off point after point from her. Sprout didn't realise Charlotte didn't care about Gryffindor anymore, although she had to wonder if the head of house was taking the points off to also make all the other Gryffindors hate her even more.
Charlotte grimaced as she thought of the Gryffindors. Throughout the entire mess so far, she had been hounded in the corridors, chased, cursed and screamed at. Many students threatened her to confess she had put her name in the Goblet. She refused to be cowed though, and she had begun putting notice-me-not and disillusionment charms on herself so she could study up, and also listen in so she could stay one step ahead of the curve, and make her plans up accordingly.
But the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs were taking the lead in hunting her down and making her life hell. Ron Weasley had become the de facto leader of Gryffindor in making her life a misery. It wouldn't last of course; Weasley was all talk with very little bark, and besides he preferred using his fists to get his points across, and in any case it was only a matter of time before it blew over anyway, and while it was tempting to summon one of the acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest, and simply shove it in the same dorm room, and piss it off so it would lash out at the redheaded piece of piss, she had opted not to.
She would do it if the redheaded bastard pushed her a certain way, but for right now she was trying to keep ahead of the curve, and she was also trying to practice her magic by infiltrating the various classes based on higher magical levels while she had Dobby and Winky remain alert for any signs of what the first of the three tasks was going to be, and at the same time she had had one of her elves look for anything related to the rules of the tournament.
There was no way she was going to leave this year in a coffin.
XXX
Later that morning Charlotte wondered how the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were able to find her so easily. It had started when Hannah Abbot had shouted her name, and suddenly it had become an all-out war. Charlotte grimaced as she had to blink when a particularly bright spell smashed into her shield before she sent another curse their way.
Fuck, they really did choose the right place for an ambush, she thought to herself while she decided to play dirty.
The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were taken aback by the basic household spells Charlotte used in the fight, while she also used transfiguration and charm work to her advantage; at first her attackers jeered and mocked her, but they stopped when she began using cutting curses and stinging hexes which took them by surprise, especially since she was able to cast silently.
Charlotte inwardly smirked while she let her more devious side come out to play while she fired a few more curses before she transfigured the floor they were on into ice. The sudden transformation of the stone floor into ice made the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs shriek with shock before they slipped and fell.
As they were groaning, Charlotte summoned their wands and threw them away before she walked off.
"We will get you back for that Potter! Your parents made a mistake in keeping you safe, you bitch!" Ernie McMillan shouted.
Charlotte slowed down her walk to a full stop. She turned back and rushed back at Ernie, who screamed in shock and horror while the furious witch flicked her wand twice at the others, and before their horrified eyes she began punching Ernie in the face. Ernie cried out in pain as Charlotte punched him in both eyes, and once in the jaw. She sneered.
"If I had a glass jaw, I wouldn't draw attention to myself, pal," Charlotte snapped while she punched and kicked Ernie.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" a spell hit Charlotte and pushed her off of Ernie, and she was sent hurtling back into a wall. Pushing the pain away, she looked up and found herself looking at Professor Sprout.
Brilliant! The Head duffer bitch herself. How the hell does she know when to turn up? Crap, she must have been here the whole time, the bitch.
"As if you weren't in enough trouble already, you launch an unprovoked attack on innocent students," Sprout whispered, but Charlotte could see the happy twinkle in the woman's eye. It made the fourth year witch wonder to herself just how much the Head of Hufflepuff actually knew. But she decided it made little difference.
She wasn't going to attend any detention this woman gave out.
"Ninety-eight points from Gryffindor. Detention tonight, Miss Potter," Sprout said finally, the sadistic smirk on her face which, ironically enough, would have looked equally at home on Snape's ugly face clear.
Charlotte said nothing. She also saw the looks she was getting from the others in the corridor. The Gryffindors were torn between delight at what they had done and horror for what she had done to Ernie, and fury over losing so many points. The Hufflepuffs were torn as well, between fear and anger over what she had done to Ernie, and pleasure over what their head of house had just done. Charlotte didn't care.
Unknown to her and even Professor Sprout, someone else had witnessed the event…
XXX
Charlotte was on her way to the disused classroom she and Dobby had both arranged to use for arrivals and departures while the rest of the school were having their dinner. It had been a rough day, but she had no intention of attending the detention she had for tonight. No chance in hell, and if Professor Sprout didn't like it, well that was just too fucking bad, and if McGonagall brought it up, she would ignore the older witch as well.
She clenched her fist around the holly and phoenix feather wand in her pocket as she kept her eyes open for anyone lurking nearby ready to attack. She had had to fend off several major ambushes today, but she hadn't used any curses herself; no, she'd simply reflected their own curses back on her attackers, but one curse had impacted her wand, cracking the wand shaft and splitting it. Her wand was becoming unstable and dangerous to use, but that didn't matter to her since she had a custom made wand, but she wanted to keep it secret until it was needed.
It had taken time, but Dobby had managed to find a copy of the Tri-wizard by-laws, and it took another bit of digging before she found something very interesting, and it made her question Dumbledore's motivations even more. As her headmaster, Dumbledore could have ruled her out of the Tri-wizard due to her age, regardless of whether or not she had entered or not; the presiding Headmaster or Headmistress had the final say over who participated, and if he or she approved then they would simply remain silent. If not…
Dumbledore wants me in the tournament, she thought to herself as her mind followed the thought through to its logical conclusion. It also made another leap. The last tournament took place in 1792, it was 2004 now so that made it 212 years ago. The last time it happened, thirty-six people had been killed, including all three champions of the three participating schools. Hardly a good pitch for the next one. Indeed, the Headmaster of Durmstrang had raised all kinds of hell over the deaths, it wasn't helped the Beauxbatons and Hogwarts teachers, who had cared then, had done the same. And the whole idea was buried.
So why bring it back now?
Charlotte thought about it as she walked closer to the classroom, but she didn't have any more time to think because she met two Gryffindors, who were looking at her grimly. Charlotte knew they weren't in her year group, but that didn't matter.
Instantly Charlotte stopped and pulled out her wand and she prepared to defend herself, but the Gryffindors didn't react. "You're wanted in the Great Hall, Potter," one of them said.
"Why?"
"Just come with us."
Charlotte mulled it over in her mind, doubting very much they wanted to talk to her. The first thing that crossed her mind was they were leading her into an ambush, but that didn't seem consistent with the typical Gryffindor impulsiveness. It was also highly doubtful the Gryffindors had changed their tune, but still, she wanted to know what this was all about. She nodded slowly but said nothing, and she refused to let go of her hold on her wand; if this was an ambush, she wanted to be ready.
The two Gryffindors led her to the Great Hall and saw the entirety of Gryffindor was seated at the table and none of them was eating. They were definitely waiting for her, although she didn't know what was going to happen here now. The moment everyone saw her, Charlotte saw the looks of barely hidden glee on so many faces.
Ron Weasley stood up on the table. "Charlotte Lillian Potter," he yelled, "you have shamed Gryffindor House for the last time for refusing to confess you placed your name into the Goblet of Fire. You have one final chance to confess, of you will be disowned and cast out from Gryffindor."
Charlotte felt all eyes on her but she used the few seconds to mull. She had found the right wording for the magically binding oath which she knew would get her out of this hell, but the more she had thought it through, she had decided it just wasn't worth it. Yeah, she could make it clear to the few people in this hall she was not a cheat, but in the long run, it wouldn't help. It wouldn't stop the next mess from happening. It might have seemed childish, but she decided to keep silent.
She had already worked out for herself she was not a Gryffindor.
She had no place in the house, and she had no place in Hogwarts. She was going to study for and sit her OWLs and NEWTs, and then she was going to leave and never look back.
She took a deep breath. "Wonderful speech," she even clapped sarcastically, knowing it would rile Weasley up even more. "Who wrote it? It seems a bit too eloquent for you. Did the beaver write it for you?" she asked, knowing the childish insult would upset Granger.
Hermione looked down, and Charlotte couldn't bring it in herself to actually care, not even when she saw the sparkle of tears in the brunette's eyes while Weasley's face flushed past red, and dangerously close to dark purple, but she reached up and tore off the Gryffindor badge.
"I, Charlotte Lillian Potter, do hereby renounce all of my ties to Gryffindor house," she announced and threw the badge onto the ground, flicking her wand into her hand, and she fired a curse straight at Ron, who was taken by surprise. Weasley let out a gurgling scream as the curse shattered his teeth, but Charlotte was out of the door before anyone could reach her.
The teachers, who had just been sitting at the head table, immediately rushed out to find her, but when they got there Charlotte was gone.
XXX
"This has gone on LONG ENOUGH, ALBUS!" Filius Flitwick shouted as he glared at the serene form of Dumbledore. "How much longer is this unjustified hatred towards Miss Potter going to continue?"
"I admit the disowning of her house was unexpected-," the elderly wizard began, but he was interrupted.
"Unexpected?! It should never have happened, in the first place!" McGonagall screamed, but Dumbledore was unmoved. "Albus, this ban has gone on long enough. You told us Charlotte couldn't have placed her name in the Goblet, and yet you refused for some reason passing understanding, to announce it to the school at large. Just one word from us, from you, and this mess would never have happened."
Dumbledore was still serene, and everyone wondered what was going on in his mind. "I understand your concerns, but we can do nothing. But now, we need to discuss ways of getting Charlotte to forgive the Gryffindors-."
"Are you insane? That is never going to happen," Flitwick snapped, wondering not for the first time if all the fame and accolades, as well as power and age, had done something to Dumbledore's brain.
"Now, now; I shall speak to Charlotte personally. Once I am finished, she will rejoin the Gryffindors."
Flitwick stared at Dumbledore in shock. He could not believe what he was hearing. "She disowned them, Albus. She must have realised she would never be accepted there ever again, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. I don't think she would want anything to do with the Gryffindors, not anymore."
The half-goblin professor had been at Hogwarts for a long time. Indeed, he had taught Dumbledore himself, and back then Flitwick had been awed by Dumbledore's impressive intellect. Well, both him and Aberforth, really; but where the other Dumbledore just wanted to be left alone and live a quieter life, he hadn't been a slouch.
But now, Flitwick wondered if Dumbledore was becoming senile. It certainly seemed that way, given how questionable his choices were.
McGonagall nodded in agreement. "I agree with Filius, Albus; I heard stories from the portraits inside the Gryffindor common room. Ron Weasley was prepared to snap the neck of Charlottes' cat for no reason whatsoever. Forgiveness is not on the cards, but you don't seem to realise that she isn't going to forgive or forget what Weasley almost did."
"You should never have banned us from stopping this madness from going too far," one of the more neutral teachers pointed out.
Snape sneered. "The girl is spoilt. What she needs is a bit of humbling."
"Oh, and you're going to do that, are you Severus?" Flitwick glared at the potions master. "We all know you are constantly thinking about how James bullied you, but you refuse to grow up and be a man for a change instead of being stuck in the mindset of that emo teen who followed the Death Eaters because you thought they were onto a good thing. Do you know what's ironic? For all your hatred, you have become like James. A miserable, good for nothing bully."
Snape snarled. "I'm nothing like him."
"Oh, yes you are; the only difference between you two is James never bullied someone who couldn't fight back!" Flitwick shot back, and he sneered when Snape snarled and the potions master dug his hand into his pocket where the half-goblin knew he kept his wand. "Go ahead, Severus; I won't be duelling, I'll be fighting."
"That is enough!" Dumbledore swiftly intervened. He had called this meeting to discuss ways of getting Charlotte to forgive the Gryffindors, but it was slipping out of his control.
His plan to force the girl into the tournament was going well. Voldemort should have really thought this particular plan out carefully, especially if he truly believed he didn't know Alastor had been replaced by a Death Eater through polyjuice potion. While the Death Eater was a good actor, his occlumency training was very patchy, and Dumbledore had seen through the disguise. It also helped he had ways of monitoring those who he called a friend.
In any case, even if Voldemort - Tom Riddle really did need a reality check if he honestly thought he was a good planner and manipulator - hadn't gotten the Girl Who Lived into the tournament, Dumbledore would have ensured it anyway. He had been counting on the tournament to toughen the girl up, but even he had limits on what he would allow.
Dumbledore had counted on Charlotte being victimised, but he hadn't counted on the disowning part of Gryffindor. In Dumbledore's mind, that was unforgivable and unacceptable. He needed the girl in Gryffindor where she could be watched by his spies. He was angry with Granger and Weasley, but he had decided not to do anything for the time being.
Not even when he had heard about what Ronald had tried to do to Charlotte's cat, although it had dented his surety the girl would forgive Weasley.
He had known from the off once it was proven she wouldn't have wanted to be in the tournament, both Granger and Weasley would flock to her side, and all would be forgiven. The sudden casting out had surprised him, but what had horrified him the most was Charlotte gladly leaving Gryffindor.
He needed to get her back into Gryffindor, but by now he knew deep down it was too late.
"No, it's not!" Flitwick snapped. "This tournament has torn the atmosphere in this school to shreds. Hogwarts is meant to be a place for learning, to teach the new generations the ways of magic, it isn't meant to be a battleground where students and teachers can gang up on other students, while waiting behind corners ready to jump out and punish the student if they fight back, like you did Pomona?"
Sprout looked at her long-time colleague with shock.
Flitwick mentally rolled her eyes. This was one of the problems with some Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors these days; they were so fixated by their own stereotypes they couldn't see past them. Pomona would never know the meaning of the word subtlety even if it jumped out in front of her.
"I was there. I was about to intervene when I saw Charlotte being attacked by members from your house, and yours as well Minerva," he added, looking at his colleague although not with scorn since he himself was guilty of that, "and she managed to defeat them. She had turned to just leave when Mr McMillan yelled her parents should never have protected her. She turned around and started attacking him muggle style as if to prove he isn't worth being cursed, and then you Pomona came and started berating her when you had heard every word. I can prove it with my memory."
Sprout was too taken by surprise by the attack she couldn't say a word.
"You know, this reminds me of Miranda Pond, you remember her, Albus? The girl whom you fixated about over twenty-five years ago, and a member of my house. Strangely enough, you started trying to give her special lessons, but despite being a Ravenclaw, she was not interested. When she was accused of cursing a number of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, you tried to sweep into the rescue, even when you Pomona began bullying her. Do you remember what I did when you went too far?" Flitwick snapped.
Silence reigned in the staff room.
Miranda Pond was not someone who was usually brought up. She was a muggle-born witch, very bright and very powerful. She had a natural gift with Charms, runes, potions, and several other magical subjects. For some reason, Dumbledore had fixated about the girl when she had attended Hogwarts for some reason none of the other teachers had understood. He had made sure everyone kept a watch on her while he began to test her. Many of the teachers had noticed Dumbledore had a modus operandi where he would choose a student, or something would come along to make him deliberately choose a particular student, and he would then start obsessing over them.
He would push them through test after test, some of them becoming more dangerous.
As a muggle-born, Miranda hadn't had a chance, although it had been surprising he would go for a muggle-born although he never said why he had chosen her in the first place and no-one had asked since Dumbledore would never tell them.
It also didn't help Miranda had begun fearing for her wellbeing, especially when she was framed in her second year for something she hadn't done. The girl had gone to Flitwick, hoping for a way out, only for the charms teacher, now much to his own regret, to turn her away. When proof turned up she hadn't done it, Miranda had refused to trust or even forgive any of the teachers. In her third year, Dumbledore had seen to it she received special lessons, but she refused to attend them. Flitwick had tried to persuade her otherwise, but she had refused. She had risked expulsion, but she hadn't cared.
It got worse.
In her fourth year, all Miranda wanted was to be left alone, but that time was worse. She had been accused of attacking a few members from the different houses with dark magic. She was instantly the pariah again, and all the Heads had gone out of their way to make her life a misery.
Even Flitwick, who felt bad about it all, had been off with her, and although he had stopped Pomona from going too far, he hadn't made life easier for the Ravenclaw muggle-born girl.
Dumbledore had waited for the right opportunity to step in and act as the dramatic knight in shining armour, or robes in this case, and save the day.
Unfortunately, Miranda had taken her own life. She hanged herself in one of the classrooms, leaving behind a truly scathing note, the contents of which Flitwick was still haunted by.
Miranda's death had haunted his life for years, and he had promised himself never to let Dumbledore try this again with another student. Dumbledore himself had been horrified by the suicide, more so because he had been heard muttering under his breath "this should never have happened," although no-one knew what that meant.
Dumbledore said stiffly, "This will not be a repeat of that time, I assure you Filius."
"Oh, but I think it will. Unless you remove the ban and let us help her, this is going to blow up in your face, Albus!" the little professor snapped.
"I am sorry, but the ban must remain."
Flitwick sighed. "This is going to blow up in your face, Albus," he warned darkly, "you have played this stupid game with too many people, and it always blows up in your face, and ours. Tom Riddle and Miranda Pond were bad enough, but now you want to make another innocent orphan girl tread down that path…this time, I hope you pay the price for your arrogance."
I admit I made up the figures for the deaths of the last Tri-wizard tournament, but I felt it would be a good move since the higher loss of life would make the idea of the tournament look unattractive. I also made up the story for Miranda Pond because I felt Dumbledore has this annoying habit of fixating on students who appeal to him, and he pushes them through one mess after another without looking to the long term. Miranda just about had enough, and so she committed suicide... Or did she?
