','
Author notes and acknowledgments are posted for every chapter. The profile page has a link.
As for chapter four however, know the lake task is inspired by the one in jbern's Lie I've Lived...
','
An Old and New World
by Lens of Sanity
','
Chapter Four: It's All About Attitude
','
"You left her on the roof?"
"Yeah." said Harry, scratching the back of his head.
"Why?" the man asked following a long pause, exasperation clear in his tone.
"I dunno, it just seemed the thing to do. Do you honestly think I have any idea why I do half the shit that I do?"
After a brief consideration of this new insight into the mind of one Harry James Potter, Sirius asked, "When are you going to let her down then?"
"She'll be fine, annoying as she can be sometimes the woman is actually quite talented. If she can't even cast an 'Aresto Momentum' she kind of deserves to be up there." Harry replied, negligently waving it off. "So what are we doing today, I can't be bothered to do my Potions homework and I think we'd better start getting on with February's task."
"Today we'll be working on... solid shields. Again." Harry just groaned. "Yeah, well they are important. You are the least talented student I've ever heard of, but that fact is in no way my fault."
Normally he would argue with a comment like that, but seeing as Harry was beginning to suspect he was actually getting worse rather than better he refrained. "How is that preparing for an underwater task?"
"It's not, but you suck, and we're going get past this one way or another." He began steadily throwing hexes in the new room they had found. They had gotten tired of hanging out in the same duelling area the time and began asking the Room of Requirement for different settings. Today's being a cathedral like expanse of junk, the detritus accumulated by a thousand years of people hiding things in the school.
After the fourth Stinging Hex to the arse Harry lost patience and a full blown duel broke out. Levitating an old rusted axe into the path of a mild bludgeoner, Harry managed to land an 'Evebero' on his godfather, the slow‑casting stunner which couldn't be reversed by a simple 'Rennervate' took the older man down and scored Harry a rare win.
Hermione walked in behind... Hermione, and the two girls flashed identical expressions at Harry's childish dance of victory. "Hey guys what's up." He stated when he finally spotted them, taking in stride the fact that they now seem to be twins.
"Guys?" she started to ask before seeing the prone form. "Have you killed your godfather Harry?"
"Nar he'll be alright. You think the three of us should do something to him while he's out?"
"Three?" The closest bushy haired girl knitted her brows together. Harry applied the counter chant to Sirius, and gestured over her shoulder. When the second girl gave a confident greeting in Hermione's distinctive voice, the first Hermione squeaked with surprised confusion. "Who are you?"
"I'm Hermione Granger, nice to meet you." She said, sticking out her hand as if to shake it.
"You cannot possibly be Hermione Granger, I'm Hermione Granger."
"So am I." She stubbornly insisted as Sirius' newly conscious form looked on in amusement at how worked up she Hermione was getting.
"No you are not. I demand you tell me who you are."
Rolling her eye's the second girl went on. "I am Hermione, I have returned from the future with the aid of a Time‑Turner to give you a dire warning. A terrible doom is about to befall you and without making drastic changes now, things will all end in sorrow." The brunette faltered a little. "Although I distinctly remember about five hours ago, my future self gave me a similar warning, and it appeared to set off a chain of events which caused said doom to befall us, and necessitated I return to the past to give forewarning."
Harry began rubbing his temples slowly, a feeling he had noticed only once before causing yet another headache. After a moment he remembered where this sensation had last been experienced. "You're Luna Lovegood using polyjuice potion to look like Hermione aren't you?"
It was mostly a guess but it had a rightness about it which was more than just a gut feeling. "Perhaps, but then again it could be that Luna Lovegood is always Hermione Granger, and she goes around the castle using polyjuice potion to look like an attractive blonde muggle she has tied up in her family's basement."
Taking this to in stride Harry went on. "Okay, say that is the case. How then can the two of you regularly be in the same room at the same time?"
"Simple, using the same Time‑Turner I used to come back in time to warn you about the oncoming doom, and possibly causing it to happen by giving you the warning about it."
Harry briefly wondered when his life became filled with conversations like this.
','
The four eventually got back to attempting to have their champion learn solid shields; Harry, Sirius, Hermione, and Hermione/Luna. The last simply assuming she was going to help and nobody really noticing she had never actually been invited.
After forty minutes, and Harry once more failing to make any progress the now lone brunette asked a question. "Dumbledore had to obliviate a couple of fifth years after breakfast, and Snape was muttering about the Ministry, and killing the two of you. Do I want to know why?"
"Probably not," Harry instantly answered, "we'll tell you when you are older though. It was classic."
"Does it have anything to do with the French Champion's attempts at sounding out whether or not Snape would require help?"
"No actually." Sirius chimed in "That was a completely separate set of circumstances your genius classmate decided on."
Harry just smiled at his godfather. Fleur was beginning to grow on him.
"Come on we'll go get something to eat, we need to come up with a strategy for this pathetic lake task."
Hammering out a few extra details over lunch took a fair while with everyone basically just pooling their ideas and coming up with the kinds of magic Harry was going to have to focus on over the next two months.
Three days after the New Year Hedwig returned from her short trip to the continent, missive from Apolline Delacour clutched in her talons. Coming up with an appropriately believable lie in order to get the information required was challenging, given that approaching Fleur's parents for information was likely something her allure‑addled fanboys had tried in the past, many times.
He'd been consciously avoiding his fellow champion since their last meeting, quite a difficult thing to pull off confined in such a relatively small environment, and regardless of whether or not Fleur knew what was happening, Harry was now ready for a second date.
Having the fanatically eager to please house‑elves cook a dish soaked in a red wine sauce was fairly straight forward, though Harry himself had never tasted 'Coq au vin' it was apparently the French woman's favourite dish. However tracking down a bottle of 1956 Mouton Rothschild to have with the meal was far more difficult. Though he idly wondered to himself whether you were supposed to drink red wine if the dish is cooked in the stuff, he put the thought out of his mind after a few moments' consideration.
"This isn't going to work Harry." His pessimistic friend inserted.
"Of course it is. I'm going to spike her drink with a potion so she'll not curse the shit out of me at first glance."
Not really reassured as to this revelation Hermione stated, "You know love potions are probably not going to work either, doubtlessly a women like her carries around an antidote to even amortentia."
"Why would you want an antidote? Amortentia tastes great."
"Yeah, well not everyone can throw off its effects like you can, besides you're sidestepping my concerns. You are dosing a woman with love potion, that is wrong and I am going to be forced to stop you."
"I'm not." He protested.
"You're not what?"
"It's not a love potion, what do you take me for? I'm spiking her with a Draught of Peace so she doesn't attack me and can enjoy the date."
Frowning, his bookish friend put in a second obstacle, "Okay fine. What makes you think she'll even agree to meet with you, I've overhead some of her comments regarding you. She is not you're biggest fan."
"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," he replied, shaking his head at the girl's foolishness. "You're looking at this in too straightforward a manner. Getting her to admit it would be harder, but the girl obviously enjoys spending time around someone who doesn't give a toss about her magically supercharged lust‑bunny act." Hermione's mouth opened in what would doubtless be a scathing retort, so he went on to answer her actual question. "Besides, I have no intention of asking her to meet me. I'm going to get Albus to turn her pillow into a portkey, he's the Headmaster so his portkeys work under the Hogwarts' wards. I've already stolen her pillow and can simply sneak it back in there once he's spelled it."
"Her pillow, meaning you are kidnapping her as she lays down to sleep?"
"Yeah, hopefully she sleeps skyclad like I do." he finished with a cheeky smile.
After a very long pause the brunette said, "I'm becoming worried about your mental state Harry."
"Are things still going Krummy in your love life Hermione?"
She just scowled.
','
It was twenty‑five past nine in the morning on the twenty‑fourth of February and the frigid air was biting deep through the formal robes of Harry Potter.
"Like my boots?" he said to the still irate French girl, motioning to the grey‑blue leather boots Sirius had ordered made for a solstice gift from the hide of the first task dragon. He had a matching wallet and belt too, the latter of which he was also wearing as this was a special occasion.
"Please do not speak to me." Fleur ordered, in a voice attempting to be dispassionate.
What amused Harry was that their second date/kidnapping was an event they both truly enjoyed, and the French woman could not really say otherwise without them both knowing it a lie. The Draught of Peace really helped her relax and simply enjoy her favourite foods and Harry's charming conversation.
She had been avoiding him like the plague ever since and this was the first conversation they'd had in months.
"I like the boots, they scream Harry Potter: Dragon Slayer, don't you guys agree?" he asked attempting to draw in the lesser champions.
Angelina had been warmer since she cracked the egg clue and discovered with surprise that Harry really was helping. "They do have a certain style about them I suppose." She responded and Krum kind of nodded. Harry liked him, he was actually good for Hermione, even aside from opportunities to needle the girl.
"Thanks, everyone read up on their Bubblehead Charms?" this made all three of them smirk, "What?"
The two females held up some kind of plant, and Viktor said he didn't need one. "What's the plant?"
"Gillyweed, allows one to breathe underwater. We are in no need of childish spells like 'ze Bubblehead Charm." The part magical creature seemed overly cheerful to have finally gotten one over on him for some reason.
As they were led off to the starting point Harry bemoaned to himself at how tired he was. They hadn't thought to take it easy in training yesterday because Harry was usually back to full strength after a night's rest and it didn't really seem to be much of a problem, but then Harry kept himself up longer than he should have hammering that one final spell.
Couple this with Draco fucking Malfoy and his idiotic goon squad setting up a bloody ambush on the way back to his rooms, and Harry was finding himself competing in this task with a mild case of magical exhaustion. It briefly occurred to him that he wished he had not bet on himself as the winner this time, Harry could have made a killing placing a bet on one of the underdogs.
A whistle echoed shrilly and the four champions of the Triwizard Tournament were off. Fleur and Angelina chomped down on their Gillyweed and their bodies began to morph, amongst other things growing gills. Applying his, now kind of disappointing Bubblehead Charm, Harry noticed Viktor Krum perform a full animal transformation into that of a shark and disappear into the watery depths.
It was blurry and disorienting beneath the shimmering bubble of air, but oxygen was quite important so he'd take it over drowning. Diving into the lake he discovered one predictable truth, February water was very, very cold. "Damn, they are going to vanish into my body and never be seen from again," he grumbled to himself, casting as powerful warming charm as he could as he vanished beneath the surface.
There were four large projectors, one for each champion as this was organised as a spectator event, and the tiny thing Harry thought of as a camera was following his every move. All three other champions were long gone. The Bubblehead Charm he and Sirius came up with seemed like such a good idea at the time, though Harry supposed that Gillyweed stuff was sort of awesome.
Harry began casting last night's well practised nonverbal spell, designed to send a fire‑hose of water out the tip of a wand, and in this situation propelling him far faster than he would have been able to swim.
Other than the scalding to death of a dozen Grindylows and a sub‑aquatic blasting curse into the Giant Squid's flank, getting to the potion ingredients in the Merfolk Village was quite uneventful. He was last to arrive, so his idea to Disillusion the other bags and a place Notice-Me-Not charm around the area was scuppered before he could even try.
Coming to the surface he saw only Krum remained, using his rescued ingredients to brew the awakening potion, and a sleeping Luna Lovegood on the ground next to the single unused cauldron.
Starting to brew Harry commented, "So you're an animagus then?"
"Da." He answered affirmatively, though clearly preferring not to be distracted.
"My godfather was at me to learn that, but other than being able to lick my own balls when I get bored I didn't really see the point." The boy remarked, seeming adult in appearance due to the aging potion, and in an improbable flash of self‑regard realised he was probably giving away a little too much personal information.
With a strange look Hermione came to, smiling at the Quidditch player the two ran off.
','
Luna regained precious consciousness and looked into Harry's distinctive green eyes, noting that up close he looked terrible. Swaying a little on his feet indicating how tired he must be, Harry was pinching the bridge of his nose as if fighting back a headache.
"Ready to go Luna, we're in last place so we're going to have to move lickedy‑split."
"Give me the wand Harry, you could use a break for the next little while." He obeyed knowing it was probably a good idea and the two of them entered one of the paths running through the Forbidden Forest.
About ten minutes later Harry was forced to wandlessly banish the blonde through some kind of defensive ward which induced an all‑consuming feeling of terror, and she accidently landed in a Boggart Nest. Luna dealt with the threat before Harry could even tell what form her Boggart took, meaning she must have had at least one competent Defence Professor.
Asking as much the blue eyed girl dreamily responded, "The werewolf who taught last year showed us how to do it, it is really quite simple when you are prepared."
A werewolf? Harry didn't voice his growing suspicions regarding the man's sanity, but Albus really must hire teachers based on who was most likely to kill his students in some spectacular fashion.
Eventually the two found themselves standing in a clearing with three totems which appeared to be conjuring and controlling dangerous animals. Harry was forced to tackle the younger girl down to avoid the talons of a falcon, then drag her out of the totems' range.
A lengthy consideration of his options led Harry to decide on a nice subtle manoeuvre. "Give me the wand back, I'll deal with this." Tottering slightly deep in his exhaustion, he took a breath and ignored the pounding in his head.
"Confringo!"
"Confringo!"
"Confringo!"
"Confringo!"
Falling to one knee he managed a fifth "Confringo!" before everything exploded under the weight of rapidly cast blasting curses.
Due to the noise of the collapsing totems, nobody noticed the black haired boy's pain‑filled whimper as he lost consciousness.
','
Waking with a flash of red and a cruel smirk, the Horntail wand stunned the blonde and transfigured her into a more manageable size, a golden puppy small enough to fit into the palm of one hand. He slipped it into his pocket and shot off a powerful twisted mass of purple energy which consumed the remnants of totem defences.
I will get this foolish task over with and then I can get back to doing what is important, he thought, moving off at a brisk jog, absently torching the Spyfly which was documenting for an audience his trip through the forest.
Coming into a clearing where the four contestants paths were doubtlessly intended to cross, he saw only one of his opponents had reached this point in the same amount of time. Concluding that either he was in front, or was lagging far behind.
The dark skinned child did not spot him so the Confusion Curse struck both her and her aide in the back without ever being spotted, they both span back the way they had come and headed for the lake again. After a few moments invested trapping the area he headed toward the direction of the finish, an unaccustomed air of malevolence following in his wake.
','
Fred and George Weasley were not having a good year so far.
They had invested all of their savings in Krum catching the snitch in the World Cup Final, an event their father had managed to get tickets for from a friend in the Ministry Games and Sports Department. The press of people down in the pit was uncomfortable, but they had come to the conclusion that it all added to the atmosphere and enjoyment, like real fans not those ponces up socialising in the prize box.
Still, although Krum did in fact catch the snitch, he did it a little faster than the twins had expected, managing to defeat even the mighty force that was the Irish Chasers. So it was that the two brothers lost all of their gold, signalling a major setback in their post‑Hogwarts plans.
The loss of their sister almost two years ago hit their family hard, though by now the twins had bounced back for the most part, better than some members of the family at least. So now they were using money borrowed from George's girlfriend Alicia in an attempt to win back some of their losses.
It did not feel right to bet on Angelina as Fred was still unhappy he had not been fast enough to invite her to the Yule Ball, and while Harry Potter would probably win this task, his odds were far too short to have the chance to make any decent amount of cash by betting on him. The twins came to a decision, together they would once more take their chances on Krum. His odds were longer than they should be and from the looks of things recorded by the Spyfly their fortunes might be changing.
Angelina and her friend had been hit by some form of confusion ward and they were heading back toward the lake, the French witch had come to the same clearing and been incapacitated by some kind of pain causing net, taking her down and having to be removed by Tournament officials. Harry Potter's screen had gone dark a little under ten minutes ago, though he was still in the task at the time, and Krum was nearing the finish.
It was down to the two remaining champions, and the twins were once again praying for a Bulgarian victory.
','
Hmm, finishing four minutes behind the illustrious Mr. Krum, the girl must have been a great help to him.
The green eyed man gazed imperiously at the gawping spectators and tiresome Tournament officials, standing next to the two task winners and an un‑transfigured Luna Lovegood.
"And finishing in second place with a time of twenty‑eight minutes and twelve seconds; Harry Potter." The amplified voice of Ludovic Bagman called out to the crowd. Eventually he extricated himself, whisked away from the podium, and disappeared through the mass of people headed for the castle, thinking about the former beater. It was a pathetic sight, the man a shade of his former self.
An hour later the hallway leading to the Headmaster's Office was trapped to high heaven and the teenager was beneath his invisibility cloak waiting for the next stage of his hastily crafted plan. He saw the old man's eyes twitch toward the shadowed alcove behind which he was crouched, activating every one of the hurriedly carved single‑use runes.
Dumbledore must be able to see through this cloak, how unfortunate.
Not even waiting to see if any of the magic reached its target he brought to bear twelve and a quarter inches of elm, unleashing a long string of spells heavy in Dark Curses, all learned long ago in his travels throughout Eastern Europe.
Eyes once again flashing malevolent red as the smoke and shrapnel cleared, he noticed that his aged opponent was virtually unharmed behind a powerfully cast mage‑shield. With an uncharacteristically sibilant hiss the fourteen year old intoned a long chant in parsel and a weaving mass of emerald energy coalesced into the form of a reptilian, draconic creature with nine angry heads.
As the bright green hydra closed on its foe a wild blast of elemental magic slammed into the younger man, a gust of hurricane strength wind took his feet out from under him and smashed his body painfully against the far wall. Shaking off the dizzying effects of head meeting stone he wiped the blood from his forehead, clearing his vision.
"Careful there Albus Dumbledore, you do not wish to harm your little protégé now do you, 'Avadakedavra!'"
The flash of an Unforgivable coincided with the hydra's encountering its opponent, down to four heads now, one of which got in a scorching bite as he raised a solid shield to block, the old man taking a bite as a sacrifice against the lethal flash of green.
As the magical construct was massacred by a sabre of brightest white, the two turned and began steadily trading blows, one's magic dark and deadly, the other's more defensive and aimed at incapacitation.
A triumphant smirk played across the black haired boy's visage.
There is no way you can defeat me that way old man.
','
Severus Snape's first hint that things were afoot in the castle was the tremendous surge of magic coming from the seventh floor. From the same area were his other clues, the almighty thumps, shudders, bangs, and assorted crashes of magical combat.
Coming upon the Griffindor Head of House he ordered in his customary tone, "You deal with the students, I will get up there," before he followed his own words and, cloak billowing, took off toward the scene of the disturbance.
','
Palming away a well recognised Dark Slicing Curse, the boy's eyes seared crimson as he let loose a blanket banisher and returned to stringing a chain of offensive magic at the preposterously dressed Headmaster.
"Ah Severus, how nice of you to join us." The ess's were all drawn out in long hisses, the last even dropping into Parseltongue. "You will aid me as I destroy this fool, only then may I allow you return to the service of your master."
Instead the Potions Professor got to his feet and came to the old man's aid without speaking, adding to the fray, and beginning to cast his direction far more violent spells.
"Do not harm him Severus, we must capture him, not kill." ordered Dumbledore.
"It is well that you have followed my commands so excellently and for so long, even long after my alleged defeat Severus, however should you continue this foolishness I shall be displeased." Two minutes of solid casting by all three before a shield buster hammered against the conjured wall of stone, seven infectious barbs lanced toward both targets at the same instant, three piercing the aged Headmaster and one the shoulder of the younger Head of House.
"Crucio!" pinned the already downed Snape with white hot knives of agonising pain. "We shall see whether or not you still have any use to me Severus."
Turning to the recovering Albus Dumbledore he separated the wand arm before it could be pointed in anger once again, thinking of a day long ago when this man came to an orphanage in London the red glare twisted further in unholy rage, the tip of his unfamiliar wand glowing a beautiful pleasant green.
"Avadakedav-"
"NO!"
A scream, a roar of defiance deeper and stronger than anything he had ever felt dropped the boy to his knees. Blood oozing from the various cuts and scrapes taken over the course of the fight a mere distraction compared to the splattering which spurted from his famous scar as it broke open.
The choking, tortured bellow was unheard by the ears of the boy himself, who pushed with everything he had, somehow desperately attempting to retake control.
The sweet arms of oblivion eventually took him, answering the prayers of all, the boy himself by far the most relieved.