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An Old and New World
by Lens of Sanity
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Chapter Two: Fight For Your Supper
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Stomping into the reception area Harry completely ignored everybody and slumped to the floor, lounging against a wall with determined insolence. Long and tedious minutes passed until eventually Albus and the other Heads of School whisked their way into the room.
"We fucking told you this would happen!" Harry exploded before anyone could say a word. "Do not worry yourself overmuch Harry. We have taken the utmost caution to prevent those underage from being entered into the contest. Does that ring any fucking bells you crazy old bastard!"
Harry didn't even bother getting up off the floor when he said this, and after a brief pause the Headmaster simply commented, "I take it you did not in fact enter yourself in the tournament?" Not even dignifying this with a response Harry just folded his hands across this stomach to prevent them going for his wand, and let the room go about their bickering.
Who would have guessed, it was a magically binding contract which Harry had to honour, even if he was not the one who entered himself. It was at times like this that he wistfully thought about actually going evil and taking over the world. If he were Britain's evil overlord then people would have to enter themselves into magically binding contracts, it would be illegal to enter other people. That would be his first change to the established order come The Day.
Eventually Harry found himself pushing his way through Griffindor common room, and was once more forced to hex down Hermione as he made his way up to his dormitory. Throwing up all of the basic security spells he knew around his bed Harry was pleased about only one thing, he'd managed to land a fairly slamming comment on the French girl regarding her crappy accent.
He fell asleep with an uncharacteristic smile gracing his face.
"Petrificus Totalus! ... Mobilicorpus!"
And I was having such a nice morning too. Harry had been on his way back from breakfast when an all too recognizable voice petrified him from behind, and began levitating his limp carcass into the nearest empty classroom.
"I am sick of you constantly hexing me Harry, we are going to talk, and you are going to listen." Harry wondered briefly how he was meant to talk when all he could move was his eyes, but this thought was distant and seemed unimportant.
She took his murderous glare as an urging to continue.
"I have no idea what happened, all I remember was coming back from the library and seeing the yellow eyes of the Basilisk in Penelope Clearwater's hand mirror. Then I wake up, you are in Azkaban, Ginny Weasley is supposedly dead, and they won't let me even visit you. Then you come back to school and won't talk to anyone..." she seemed like she was on the verge of tears, "and I try to talk to you but you ignore me, and you keep hexing me. What's the problem Harry?"
The brunette released the petrifaction and for a while he just sat there in silence. "What do you want Hermione, you are alive and free, what do you want from me?" These were pretty much the first words Harry had spoken to any student since beginning the term, and the Muggleborn girl found herself at a loss as to what to say.
Noting she had nothing Harry turned to leave.
"I thought we were friends," she desperately wailed.
"What did you do last year Hermione?" She just looked at him, "You were here at school, like a normal kid sitting her lessons. I was sandwiched between two lunatics and forced to spend an inordinate amount of time in the company of Dementors. I do not want to talk to any of you little students, I just do not care anymore."
As he reached the door she injected one last parting shot, "You need help in this tournament. I don't believe for one minute you entered yourself no matter what Angelina's friends have been saying."
"Huh, yeah great, sure I need help Hermione. You got any ideas?"
Surprisingly she instantly answered, "Yes, I do have one."
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Three hours later Harry Potter woke in the hospital wing.
"Urg, what the hell happened," he muttered groggily as the memories crashed back. "Okay, so I was kidnapped by Hermione, and she came up with a really good idea to help me in the tournament, then I went to Potions. Oh, that's right, stupid friggin' Potions Professor trying to dig around in my head."
When you're surrounded by fear inducing soul suckers around the clock you need as many ways as possible to take the edge off, and try as he might Harry couldn't feasibly keep up the Patronus Mist all day every day. So his friend Bellatrix taught him some of the basics to an obscure branch of magic known as Occlumency. A branch used for shielding one's mind as well as the controlling of all thoughts and emotions.
Funnily enough it was Lucius Malfoy's insistence that Harry already had this skill which allowed him to prevent the use of Veritaserum in an interrogation. Apparently an Occlumens can pointedly not know the truth when questioned, thereby making the truth serum useless against a skilled practitioner.
So when ugly greasy Potions Master tried poking around in his mind, Harry knew enough to figure out exactly what was happening. A 'Levicorpus' and a 'Pello,' had the pathetic little man lifted into the air by his ankle and banished, flinging him directly into his potion cupboard, incidentally covering him in an array of different cocktails.
Severus Snape had been less than pleased and there was a bit of an impromptu duel, one which Harry lost very quickly and very badly, with him ending up here in the hospital wing. "I strongly dislike that man," he flatly stated to himself.
Madam Pomfrey heard him and bustled over muttering imprecations under her breath as she gave the black haired boy the once over. Headmaster Dumbledore was in the room looking all benign and grandfatherly by the time she finished. "He attacked me with class three dark magic, I was defending myself." Harry fired off an explanation before the old man could comment.
Striking first, it was worth a shot.
Dumbledore paused, taking the time to change his tactic. "Indeed, our esteemed Potions Master was far from thrilled regarding what he called an 'unprovoked attack,' and after some further questioning I found myself intrigued as to how you came to understand the art of Occlumency."
"Bella taught me a little, it helps with Dementors, not much but something is better than nothing. I didn't know Snape went around using Legilimency on schoolchildren though, so I'm going to have to learn the more advanced stuff on top of any preparation I'm going to have to do for this stupid competition."
He pondered the boy's words for some time, unsure about hearing confirmation of Sirius Black's concerns regarding Harry's relationship with Mrs. Lestrange. "You cannot go around attacking professors without reprimand Harry. You will have to serve a public detention for no other reason than to prevent others from mimicking your example."
"I just told you it was in self-defence. I won't be punished for your man's actions and I am fully prepared to go to the MLE if necessary." He met the old man's eyes hoping to convey the truth of his statement. Harry knew they probably wouldn't listen to a budding Dark Lord's concerns, and wanted to make clear that he would raise a stink doing it anyway. "Did you know he was using Dark Arts on minors?"
The Headmaster took a deep breath but did not respond, so Harry changed the topic. "I talked to Hermione earlier. You gave her a device she called a Time‑Turner so she could throw herself into her studies last year, I would like you to get me one so I can prepare for the upcoming competition."
The wheels were clearly turning in his head and he cautiously asked, "What would you do with such a device?" though Harry would bet good money that he had figured it out already.
"I want to go on thirty hour days. I'll rope Sirius into helping. Probably hack off my useless classes as well so I have more time to train. You know as well as I do that this whole thing is an elaborate attempt to kill me in some spectacular fashion, I would like to be as prepared as I can possibly be."
"Doing such a thing will age you prematurely…" Dumbledore trailed off at the look on the boy's face, one which stated clearly that actually living long enough for that to become a problem was unlikely in the extreme. "I will think on your request, Harry."
As they parted ways each was well aware that the concerns of neither had been dealt with during their discussion.
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Heading for the seventh floor and what Padfoot called the Come and Go Room, which the Marauders had discovered some time during their sixth year, Harry passed two of the Slytherin girls who were in his year. They give him a look which he failed to recognise and he passed them by pushing the confusion from his mind.
Dumbledore had come through with a Time‑Turner because the magic on the Goblet of Fire rendered him unable to aid his school's champion, and he decided that if Harry was to be on his own for the remainder of the year, then he would give him what little help he could. Harry guessed that meant he really was a Hogwarts Champion even if there was no school name on the slip of defence homework which found its way into the Goblet.
Entered the never before seen room a voice bellowed "Tarantallegra!" before the door was even closed, forcing Harry to clumsily roll to the side in an effort to avoid the dancing jinx.
They traded shots for about twenty seconds before Harry was trussed up like a pig in conjured ropes. Really, he only had two years of formal training, none of which was from competent instructors, so even lasting that long was an accomplishment.
Sirius of course did not seem to agree with that assessment. "Crap. I knew you'd be crap, but not this crap. Here I thought you'd be half decent with the rate you pick up new spells, but basically everything you did there was just wrong, wrong, wrong."
It had been a little under a week since the meeting in the hospital wing with the Headmaster, and this was the first opportunity to get any work done. It was happening during one of those useless History of Magic lessons everybody sleeps through, meaning that unlike the rest of his classmates he may in fact learn something.
After an eternity Sirius let the boy down and was greeted with a long series of expletives. "You tried to shoot me in the back right when I came through the door, I'm amazed I lasted even that long."
"You were crap. We'll focus on footwork, and keeping your casting efficient even when you're diving around. Once you've got that to a decent level we can go back to learning new spells. How long do you plan to spend using the Time‑Turner?"
"The rest of the year unless I have a good reason not to, I want to get stronger as fast as possible and the school's healer says that I should get used to a different sleeping pattern in about a month."
"Well we have two weeks until the first task, and I've been told by Albus that Charley Weasley is in the country, and that the man is a Dragon Handler by trade. Do you think there may be a hint in there somewhere?"
Harry just huffed a small laugh about rules bending and opened his initial salvo toward the animagus.
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Six hours and an invigoration draught later the two were kicked back on chairs provided by the reopened room. "I've been getting some strange looks ever since I took a crack at Snape."
"I'll bet, but how is that different from the way people normally look at you?" Sirius found the result of the various potions that were dumped on his childhood rival hilarious. Half his hair was missing, which Snape later shaved off completely, and a large patch of his face was dyed neon orange for three days, all that was after he'd been cleaned up. What he was like before he'd been cleaned up was truly worth seeing.
"It's not the normal 'oh no a Dark Lord is going to kill us all' look, I passed a couple of Slytherins on the way here and I don't know what it was. It wasn't the kind of look I've ever really seen before."
Sirius looked a little amused and lightly asked, "Would these two Slytherins happen to be of the female variety?"
"Yeah..." Harry responded frowning. "So what?"
"So...," the man prompted, finally giving it up as a bad job. "So, you ignorant schoolboy, you are a badass school champion who may or may not be evil, and can get away with hexing his professors if they annoy you without punishment. Or at least that's what it looks like from their perspective, you also have the dashing ex‑con thing going for you."
Harry just didn't get it and confusedly asked, "What are you getting at Sirius?"
"Merlin where have you been living all your life, you should be able to figure this one out on your own."
"Prison. I've been living in prison my whole life. Spell it out before I curse you."
"Like you could land one little boy," he muttered as he easily palmed away the stray curse using a duellist shield. "Some of the girls in this castle are bound to find you fascinating kid. Hell you had them with the whole may or may not be evil thing, but with being a champion and all the rest I'm amazed you haven't been spiked with amortentia yet."
Putting most of that on hold for a moment he asked a more or less irrelevant question. "That's a love potion isn't it? Can you tell me what it tastes like?"
Knitting his brows Sirius replied. "It tastes like all your favourite things. One of Alice's friends nailed me with some when I was in seventh year. It supposedly changes depending on the drinker... why?"
"I was wondering why my drink tasted so delicious yesterday morning, can we buy some more I really liked it."
"Are you saying you're immune to amortentia?" he blurted in disbelief. "Wait, you liked the taste and want to buy more?"
"I don't know about immune, but I had this lovely tasting beverage with my breakfast yesterday and I was thinking fond thoughts about one of the fifth years whose name I don't even know. I didn't fall in love with her or anything and I'd gotten over it by the time it came for me to be tortured by that arsehole Moody."
He thought on this for a while before putting it out of his mind. "You should get yourself a girlfriend, just pick one who seems interested and be mysterious at her. It'll give you something to do when you're not training."
"As if I don't have enough on my plate at the moment." Although he briefly thought he might take a crack at the Veela bitch for no other reason than ignoring her aura appeared to annoy the girl immensely. "I think those two Slytherins were called Tracy and Daphne."
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It was actually just as simple as Padfoot had said, so Harry found himself accompanied on the first Hogsmeade visit by a tall attractive blonde and her shorter but equally attractive dark haired best friend. It was four days before the first task and Harry was taking the whole day off to relax in an attempt to enjoy life.
He was also doing his level best to follow his godfather's advice; remember to make it so half his comments should imply he were evil, the other half that he's good. To give a backhanded compliment when the opportunity arises, but not be scared to make fun of them a little. Sirius gave many more recommendations but like most of the things the man said it was all contradictory. He was also surprisingly knowledgeable about taking two girls out at the same time, which Harry did not take to be a good sign for some reason.
"I really cannot believe Rita Skeeter would write such things about you." During the wand weighing ceremony Harry had been introduced to a reporter, who for some perverse, probably masochistic reason, Harry found he quite liked. The woman was clearly a poisonous bitch who didn't care about anything save making her story as sensational as possible. It was also obvious that the woman was not even attempting to hide who she was, being straightforward about her goals, albeit in a twisted kind of way.
"I may have intentionally given her a few quotes which she could blow out of all proportion." He replied to the dark haired girl's comment.
She looked confused by this revelation. "Intentionally? Why would you do that, she made you out to be the kind of person who, while possibly dashing and clearly mysterious, eats babies in the dead of night."
"I liked how she'd managed to bring in Pollux Black, and how his Order of Merlin was for assassinating one of the minister at the time's enemies. A story which I know for a fact to be a total fabrication because he was awarded the thing for donating a huge pile of gold. Yet she did it, and managed to strongly imply that my using the same wand means I'll doubtlessly follow in his nefarious footsteps."
Walking into the Three Broomsticks in the waning sunlight Harry managed to body‑check one of the leaving French girl's friends, which caused her to in turn bump the Veela, who promptly did a pratfall into the mud. A comment not quite under his breath regarding her gracefulness would have likely been responded to with violence had he not hastily slipped into the building.
"You're so evil Harry." said the blonde, not quite chastising him.
"I have no idea what you are talking about." He waved dismissively. "Wine? I've been told the house red is surprisingly good." Another thing Sirius mentioned, these two are teenagers, they have just as much of an idea of what makes a good wine as he did, and being able to pull off ordering alcohol when underage would doubtlessly get him bonus points too.
When he met up with his godfather later that evening he simply voiced the one irrefutable sentiment he had learned that day…
"Threeway kisses are awesome."
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"Pupugi!" slashing spiral, jab, "Pupugi!"
"I heard you've been two‑timing a couple of Slytherin girls Harry." The bushy haired girl admonished. She was still a little skittish around Harry but her displeasure at the rumour outweighed her current level of discomfort.
"Pupugi!" Another near transparent beam flashed out the tip of his elm wand before he replied to her scolding. "Where did you hear that Hermione?"
"Neville was very upset last night and I finally got out of him the reason why this morning." Harry continued firing at the targets in the Room of Requirement. "He was unhappy with some of your comments he overheard regarding Bellatrix Lestrange, and he told me about your spending time with two different witches."
"It was at the same time so it's hardly two‑timing is it? 'Pupugi!'" Turning to the teenage girl he went on to ask, "Why should Neville care about what I have to say about Bella anyway?" Apparently it being at the same time was too far out of her realm of experience because it took a while for the black haired boy's comment to permeate.
"I couldn't get it out of him, though I've never seen him so angry when he said her name. I think he might have tried to hurt you had you been there." Harry just waved his hand dispassionately and went back to overpowering his spells. "Are you nervous about the task? I heard Angelina talking about all the preparation she's been doing and how much help she's been getting from all the Griffindors."
"Are they still wearing Draco's pathetic badges?" He questioned, ignoring her earlier query because he actually was a little nervous. Who wouldn't be if they knew that in less than a day they were going to be fighting a dragon?
As she was about to answer in the affirmative Padfoot walked in with a cheery bounce to his step. "I've got it. Had to buy it from a shop down Knockturn Alley, and it cost a stupid amount, but I got it."
He handed the purple potion to his godson who commented, "It can't have been that much, it's not that difficult to brew. I still think we should have gone with the whole villainous spikes thing, it would help complete the image."
The dog animagus thought it over but didn't comment.
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"Dragons? Oh my lord, who would have thought it. What kinds of people would make teenagers fight dragons? I for one am surprised and flabbergasted at this totally unforeseen turn of events."
The tent with the three lesser champions and a former beater named Ludo Bagman all glared at the black haired boy who had the temerity to spout such insincerity. He drew a blue-grey Swedish Short‑Snout and was scheduled to attempt to retrieve his golden egg first. The others received their own dragons with Angelina getting a Welsh Green and Princess Delacour the honour of facing off against the Horntail.
When left alone Harry's former Quidditch teammate growled, "You knew about the dragons the whole time didn't you."
"Of course, everyone knew, didn't you?" Ah the devil may care attitude really did a number on the pretty chaser, especially when she noticed the others looking like they all in fact did know of this beforehand. So he ignored her and, nodding to Krum who he had no problem with, turned the beautiful Fleur and as sincerely as possible he asked, "Would you like some help with the Horntail, those things are actually quite dangerous you know."
The repeated barbs over the course of the last few weeks, combined with that accidental jostling into the mud a few days ago, had the French woman more pissed off at Harry than she was concerned about facing a dragon. As she expressed her opinion as to the character of one Harry James Potter he downed the purple potion and aged almost three years before their eyes. Ignoring her continuing tirade, he wrapped around himself a finely made cloak embossed with the Potter family crest and walked out to face the crowd, attempting to look imposing, the kind of man who could face down one of these creatures with ease.
Scoping out the area Harry noted the golden egg, and that the Short‑Snout was shackled to the ground. That was good. He'd brushed up on his dragons over the past two weeks and knew that this breed was nimble in the air but less capable on the ground. They were also able to command a bright blue flame which was amongst the hottest of the species.
"Concussus! ... Confringo!"
Bright flash of light and a deafening roar masked the explosive blasting curse. Direct damage spells are basically useless against dragons, so it was more like a love tap than anything. Just trying to get its attention.
Sirius had said that the eyes are the vulnerable point, and on further research the ear canal, as well as under the arms and wings. Basically you could only land spells places where the hide was thin or absent entirely, and those places were far from being easily accessible.
Tossing a few more blasters at it and getting an idea as to the things flaming range, he thought how the original plan had to be dropped in the early stages. Levitating heavy weights and pounding the thing into unconsciousness would have been nice but he didn't have the focus to transfigure weight large enough, nor the power at hand to engorge one of the existing rocks.
"Well this is getting me nowhere..." he muttered under his breath, "I need to get closer."
He set about slowly transfiguring a thick solid shield out of one of the rocks, and after three minutes Harry was happy with his creation, big enough to crouch behind and tough enough to take dragonfire… he hoped. Putting as strong a featherweight charm as he could on the medieval style shield, he picked it up in his left hand and moved to the edge of dragonfire range.
He set about harassing it with repeated 'Confringo' blasts until it flamed and he had to lean back and take the hit. It was not much due to the extreme range, so once the heat dissipated he scrambled as fast as he was able, closing as much distance before she could breathe flame a second time.
Turtling behind his heraldic protection once again he thought to himself; this is probably a very bad idea, as a huge wash of heat slammed into him. Pretty severe scorches and almighty torrents of sweat poured off him until the dragonfire eventually lessened, leaving him worse for wear but blessedly alive.
Throwing down the barely held together shield Harry took aim at the twenty foot reptile "Pupugi!" a miss, well wide and to the right. "Pupugi!" closer, Damn it Harry, you've just got to get the eye, the dragon was recovering for a third breath as it was still too far to use teeth or claws, he only had one more shot at this.
Otherwise it would be Harry Potter barbecue time.
Taking the time for a last steadying breath he began the familiar wandmotions, well drilled over the last several days. Slashing spiral, jab, "Pupugi!" a high level piercing curse, the strongest spell he knew, careened toward the left eye of the towering bluish-grey lizard. It lanced deeply through the soft mass of flesh and straight through her brain.
The right side of her body dropped instantly, with the working limbs twitching, dragging the dying creature in a rough half‑circle to the sound of pain filled howls. More than a little disturbed by the noises Harry turned to the crowd and muttered "Accio Sword" as he pointed in the direction of his godfather.
Taking the ruby encrusted weapon he had once used to slay a Basilisk in his left hand, he advanced on the thrashing beast, shoving the sword to the hilt into the poor creatures remaining eye, a mercy killing for a noble animal. One who was, like Harry, roped into a brutal contest for the amusement of ignorant witches and wizards the world over.
And so it was that Harry Potter claimed one more life, this time to thunderous applause.