Hello, I hope you enjoy chapter 4, been working hard on it, and learning lots in the process. As usual thanks to all my Beta Readers: Ajjaxx, x102reddragon, Arnie1701,WardyWoo, DarknessEnthroned, gamer0890, and Thanos. Their help has been incredible and heartwarming beyond belief. 3
Chapter 4 - Alone, Together
"The Yule Ball," Professor McGonagall repeated, her frown hammering the point home. "And a date, Potter."
A sharp chill stabbed him, freezing him to the spot.
It was easy for her to say, no one expected her to fail; eager and waiting. Yet another slap in the face, it wasn't supposed to be like this. Things were meant to be fair. It was almost comical, expecting anything to be different.
His blood pounded in his ears.
He knew exactly how fickle the masses were, they had turned on him more times than he could count. Their barbs were sharp and bit deep. No doubt their eyes would follow him, and each inevitable mistake; judged.
I don't want any of this.
He seized the gobstone he had been toying with during class, the newest one, and bemoaned the lack of warmth; there was a trickle, but not nearly enough. Pressure grew to pain as he held it, the small; almost black bead eventually took some heat from him. Almost as good as the gobstone he had replaced.
Subjected to this barbaric tournament, and they didn't even have the courtesy to spare him some humiliation, In a way it was oddly fitting.
Still, a Champion had expectations. Harry knew little of that, but he couldn't just not go. McGonagall was capable of dragging him there.
He grunted a farewell, his legs felt wooden as he stalked to the door, each step forcing him closer to that disaster. As the door shut heavily behind him he pulled out another two gobstones, each flooded him with their comfortable warmth. Ron and Hermione pushed up from the wall, and they exchanged a familiar look.
Harry scowled.
They will have to find dates too, and when that realisation hits them they will be as nervous as me, right?
Fleur would be going. With her own date, too.
Her rejection still rocked him from time to time, and though it had been almost a week since, it had been his first rejection. It had taken him a few days to realise she hadn't said no, just that her friend's laughter and Fleur's horror chased him away, neither were assuring though.
"You alright?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded, he didn't trust his voice to not give the lie. He didn't stop for them, not caring if they followed. Perhaps if he just forgot all about the Ball he could be excused from it. They wouldn't come looking for me, would they?
"Harry, slow down. What did McGonagall want?" Hermione asked.
He turned to find her jogging to catch up. He didn't meet her eyes, seeing her red faced and out of breath was damning enough.
"She didn't look angry or even annoyed, was it about the Tournament? Whatever it was, it can't be worse than a dragon. We can help you, whatever it is."
What did Hermione know? Everything was his usual answer to that thought, and she usually did, which did nothing for his mood.
"She said that I have to attend the Ball… and with a date."
Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth twitched. Ron laughed. The giant ginger git had some nerve. Harry felt little relief from the empty corridor, but it was better than having everyone hear. He started to walk again, just at a more Hermione friendly speed.
"Can't be that hard, you're a champion. Bet you could trip and find a date, or two," Ron said, as he enjoyed a nice little laugh to himself.
If only it were that easy, well maybe it was, but he didn't want just any old date. The one person he wanted to go with had already turned him down, slamming that door shut before he had thought it was a choice to be made. And she wouldn't even have to think about who to go with, every single boy interested would line up for a chance, and some girls too.
Harry would have to go with someone he wasn't remotely interested in, and that made things, somehow, even worse. Holding someone close for an evening, with Fleur within his gaze, no that thought certainly didn't inspire him.
Not to mention he couldn't actually dance. If it were anything like the dancing the Dursleys' had watched on telly, he was doomed. A blur of feet and flailing arms, nothing could be more embarrassing.
"Ron, they can't just spring some stupid dance on me. Not when I still need to work on the egg. I've got Moody trying to scare me half to death, it's just never ending."
That had been a little more than he had intended to say. Ron just scratched the back of his neck. Hermione stood next to a tapestry, with a worried frown on her face, but she did speak up.
"We all have to dance, Harry, these kinds of balls are special, most girls dream of this kind of night. When the tournament was announced this was the talk of half the Gryffindor girls, it's expected for everyone to dance. I'm sure it'll be a nice change from preparing for the next task."
He gaped.
It was the talk of the girls, no doubt the whole school, and the other schools too. Everyone had known, everyone but him. Ron and Hermione shared an amused look, Harry wanted to glare, though he kept it hidden behind a smile.
No wonder Fleur had claimed her friends wanted to find boys from Hogwarts, it was so obvious now, how had he been so blind? No wonder they had laughed at his foolish attempt at asking Fleur. What must she think of him — no doubt, it was less than flattering. Harry knew little of girls, but he knew being laughed at in front of her friends was hardly ideal.
His insides still twisted and writhed remembering that night, he wished he had kept his mouth shut, and wished he had kept to himself as he usually did. Yet, like a moth to a flame, he was drawn to her. Each step closer to the flame a step closer to something transcendent.
She had it all, beauty enough for the world's poets, confidence to rival even gods. Her every breath radiated her brilliance.
His steps rang against the stone floor of the corridor, it was only when he turned a corner to find the Great Hall, that he realised he'd practically stormed down the entire Transfiguration corridor. The staircase was flooded with people, most leaving Charms or Astronomy, Harry glanced around, he wanted nothing more than to avoid all this nonsense.
But now it was forced on him that he basically had to ruin some poor girl's night, and that thought almost made him as annoyed as dancing had.
"Somehow, I don't think that helped."
Of course it didn't, Ron. Hermione for all her good intentions was often guilty of making things worse for him, though he couldn't lay blame for all of this at her feet. Or any really, if he were being honest with himself.
"What am I going to do?" He paced, watching as the students poured down the main stairway. Towards the Great Hall for lunch, and where every single student would be, for a time at least.
"You could just ask her, you know? She's been watching you almost as much as you've been watching her," Hermione said.
Harry felt his stomach lurch, "Who — who's been staring at me? Who have I been watching?"
Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile and rolled her eyes.
"Fleur."
Ah, well, shit.
He could just go into hiding, The Chamber of Secrets sounded mighty nice right about now, not to mention fitting his mood. He could just wallow alone in the —
"She's been looking at me?"
Harry was aware the words would seal any doubt in Hermione's mind, but it was worth the risk. Even if Hermione found a way to give him some beginner's French book.
Well, maybe not then, he thought.
"Well, she's not half bad looking," Ron admitted, as though he wasn't as sure.
Despite his gawking and fawning over her when Fleur had first arrived, though Harry couldn't blame him, since he and Katie had begun dating, there had been a change. Ron had started to pretend that he had never noticed a single female.
Harry had no idea what to make of it, perhaps he was worried about upsetting Katie, Harry had watched Gryffindor playing quidditch enough to know that wasn't a good idea. She and the rest of the team could handle themselves if needed, perhaps he should worry about Ron.
"She has been watching you, at meals or whenever you're in the same room, I don't know why. But I hardly think it's bad, or else she would have done something about it, she doesn't strike me as someone who wouldn't speak her mind."
Harry could have jumped for joy, but there was still the rough matter of having been rejected by her not a week past. Still, it was lunchtime now, if she had taken to staring at him in the week since she had rejected him, then perhaps there was hope.
He glanced over at Ron, who grinned away like a fool, then shook his head. It was too good to be true, but he wouldn't be able to relax until he had something to go off. Fleur Delacour could remain a mystery to him, or he could take another shot. All it could cost him was some small pride and his own self-confidence. Both had taken hits at her feet before, it was nothing new, he tried to convince himself.
Students in deep black cloaks, meant for trapping any hint of warmth, strode in from outside, sweeping past the gathered students and into the Great Hall. Hermione brushed a hand on his arm, and with a gesture she led them down the staircase. Where Harry wished more than lunch awaited.
The tables were filled as much as usual, the other schools' students swelling the already sizable number, chatter filled his ears as he scanned the room. Searching for a head of far too familiar platinum blonde hair, he only deflated a little when he didn't find it though.
Plates were filled and food was eaten, and before long Harry had forgotten about trying to locate Fleur, instead just enjoying the peace of eating with his friends. Ron had been disparaging their ghastly History of Magic Professor, which culminated in a less than pleasant impression.
"The goblins after, yet another, humiliating defeat were forced to surrender to their betters," Ron intoned, nose pointed high up in the air.
Hermione snorted and Harry chuckled, the earful he had received from Hermione after that lecture still left his ear ringing from time to time. Though he supposed she was right, wizards did seem to think an awful lot of themselves, despite some obvious failings.
Like tournaments for children with death tolls off the charts.
Seamus Finnegan chimed in with a similar impression of Professor Sprout, "If you squeeze the sack right here, the puss will excrete in a soothing manner." His thick Irish accent made it anything but soothing. "Barmy these teachers I tell you, all nuts. My mam says in her day it was more normal, but Dumbledore likes eccentric stuff."
Harry frowned, though Seamus was funny, he didn't see how it was Dumbledore's fault. Hermione opened her mouth and started to speak up, but was cut off abruptly by a voice clearer than an ocean breeze.
"Could I talk to you, 'Arry?"
Harry took a deep breath, his senses burst fully to alert, and each clatter of cutlery rang. The sounds of his own breaths boomed in his ears, not to mention how rapidly his hands started to sweat. He turned to see Fleur Delacour standing at his shoulder, a gentle smile graced her face, an open and pleasant expression.
She was alone, in her usual pale blue school robes, somehow it was odd not to see her flanked by her friends. They clung to her as though for support, usually. Fleur's wide blue eyes met his own, she shook her head slightly.
He nodded. Her smile redoubled, lighting her face with some hidden reserve of beauty, she turned and gestured for him to follow.
As if I wouldn't.
She led him out of the Great Hall and down the hallway he took to reach the Astronomy Tower, he wondered if she had ever taken the time to go and investigate it.
The voices from the Great Hall faded away before long, reinforcing just how alone they were, and were to be. Harry's heart raced, even still Fleur's long legs kept him needing to almost jog to keep up. The glimpses of her face he caught showed no fear, no nerves, only that soft smile.
Fleur slowed before long, but never stopped, her long legs covered distance easily. Harry was a little out of breath before he caught up to her, though he tried very hard not to let it show, especially as she looked none the worse for wear. They reached a moderate-sized stairwell, this one never moved but it did like to twist if too many people walked on it at once, especially in the daytime.
It didn't take long for Fleur to match his exhaustion, the steps were far from an easy climb, but unless she turned away at the last second it would be worth it. He passed the door to the room he had escaped to, though past that need, Harry hoped there wouldn't be cause to return soon.
Fleur walked on, her steps fell slower with each flight they passed and Harry smiled to himself. She would at least feel as awful as him when whatever came, came. The top floor was locked away behind a thick black chain, something Harry had always just stepped over with his invisibility cloak.
Harry watched as Fleur pulled her wand out and almost sang an incantation, there was a melody in those words he had never heard before. The chain slid to the floor, limp, only once they passed did it move, rising and settling back to where it had been before.
A small smile was the only acknowledgement she gave, he fought a manic grin, it was as if she had shared some deep secret with him; in his chest, however, a frantic warmth raged.
The room was circular and wide, with all manner of telescopes tucked along a low shelf. The ceiling was open and glass, showing an unparalleled view of the clear sky above and the grounds around. Though Harry had come here before to admire the view around the grounds, rather than the sky. Class provided plenty of time for stargazing, he wasn't likely to take it up for an extracurricular activity.
There was a private feel, more so than walking alone, and it made Harry want to avoid Fleur's gaze. He shuffled in place, imagining the other extracurricular activities this room had probably hosted. He chanced a glance at Fleur and felt his jaw go slack, she spun where she stood, arms thrown wide. The sky reflected in her eyes, as two immense beauties gazed upon each other.
Harry had to shake his head to stop himself from staring.
The stools they sat on in class were arranged neatly beside the telescopes, Harry pulled a pair over towards Fleur. Though he didn't disrupt her. The joyous grin on her face told him to let her soak in the experience, that she needed this somehow. It didn't take long for Fleur's eyes to settle down towards Harry and the grounds, but when they did she seemed more vibrant than ever.
The silver glow he had seen that night shone behind her.
He offered her the stool, which she sat on, elegantly tucking her long skirts in under her. Even Aunt Petunia wouldn't have found fault in Fleur at that moment.
Their eyes roamed over the tops of the Forbidden Forest, and down onto the Quidditch Pitch, Harry's finally rested on the distant mountains.
"The lake, it's so big…" Fleur whispered.
"Huge, really, no idea what really lives in there either." Harry commented, "Well other than the giant squid."
Fleur shuddered, her face twisting to a grimace. He wanted to laugh, but he wasn't about to tease her for her fear of the water, after all, he had barely gotten to know her.
"You were right though, this place is stunning…" she breathed, her eyes finally shifting from the lake. "We have nothing like this at Beauxbatons, our astronomy is done from star charts and muggle telescopes, it misses the magic of this place."
"I can't say much to that, but Hogwarts has its beauty, hidden away, but it's there."
She nodded and turned to look at him, brow furrowed. It took her a minute to get the words out, "We are expected to dance at the Yule Ball, Veela are… different. Dancing and singing are how our magic manifests, our so-called allure, I'm sure you've heard of it by now."
Harry nodded, and his foot drummed against the stone floor.
"We are expected to dance, and I will not dance in public, still you asked me first. If you still wish it, I would be honoured to accompany you."
She — Harry blinked. The Yule Ball, she wanted to — with him?
It took him a long time to recover from the shock of that. Her face had never changed once, she waited patiently, the small, kind smile motionless. He tried to nod, unsure of how his body worked, and she beamed. It was lucky he was sitting on the stool because his feet felt lighter than air.
The idea that Fleur wanted to go with him set his blood ablaze, his face certainly felt on fire. He had to stifle a giggle, and how he kept his seat was beyond him.
"Perfect, I was afraid I had upset you too much," said Fleur. Harry shook his head, though perhaps he wasn't being entirely truthful. "My friends too…"
Harry grimaced, he could have wished she'd just forgotten that, she likely had no idea how accustomed to being laughed at he was. But he owed her a reply, "It was hurtful, but nothing I'm not used to." He wanted nothing more than to sweep it under the rug, as he had always done, and move one.
"They are protective, they are used to people asking me for dances; favours, kisses and any other such activity." Her laugh was clear, sharp, and entirely derisive, as if those events had been blemishes on otherwise perfect times.
"My friend's will apologise, I don't think they realised I would 'ave accepted your offer if I could."
Harry couldn't believe the pink blemishes that bloomed in her cheeks, the words stoked that warmth inside of him, and seemingly her too. His own face burned, and despite it all he couldn't take his eyes off her.
"I 'andled it poorly, all is forgiven?"
"Yeah… of course."
Fleur's face erupted in delight, and Harry grinned like a fool. He had daydreamed of similar events, and yet, nothing came close to the reality. His heart pounded away like a hammer in his chest, it almost drowned out noise, and his head felt light. Harry actually checked his breathing, and noticed Fleur was short of breath herself.
They shared a giggle, her eyes danced amidst her flushed face.
Harry paused, a thought crossing his mind.
"How will we dance if you won't actually dance?"
He had been so carried away with the fantasy of it all, that somehow the admission had failed to land with him. A crushing blow to the newest fantasy born, but it wouldn't damage this moment, he wouldn't let it.
"I am 'oping we can sway on the spot, if not I think some simple steps ought to suffice for a few minutes." Even swaying sounded like something too good to be true.
Fleur peered down at him, her porcelain face still red. "Are you disappointed?"
Harry couldn't lie, not outright, "A little, but not because I can't dance with you, more because you can't dance or let loose. The tournament is stressful enough without thinking over this kind of thing."
Exactly like I did —
She touched his leg, then stood, arms thrown wide once more. "I am capable of finding peace in other places, occupational 'azard of my blood." Her scornful laugh sounded harsh against her beauty. He rose to follow her, but got lost in the view too.
The surroundings were bathed in shadows as the sun brushed the tops of nearby mountains, Hagrid's hut had an early fire roaring. It wouldn't be long until it looked right once more, the snow set it off perfectly; even if it was a little too thick and deep this far north.
Fleur stepped next to him. "This… 'Agrid? 'E is a good friend of yours?" Her hand waved down to the large hut.
Harry nodded, and searched for the words, though he couldn't ever do what Hagrid was to him justice. "He brought me into the wizarding world, and gave me my first pictures of my parents… He's always there for me."
"'E sounds like a truly remarkable man, you are lucky to have a friend like 'im."
He nodded, there perhaps was no other way to describe Hagrid, but 'remarkable' fit better than any other word he knew. Much like Hogwarts — and Fleur. Students poured out from the school. Somehow, he had damn near forgotten about his classes.
"Shit," he muttered, "I need to get going."
"Oh, you can't skip your class?"
Harry froze, it was only divination, he could skip it. And spend the hour tucked away alone with Fleur, the idea alone made him almost giddy. Professor Trelawney wouldn't notice him missing, well, she might once she has no one to predict death for.
Reality was often cruel, his lack of presence would be noticed instantly, it was only now he had a desire to avoid a class that it hit home. Perhaps Fleur wouldn't mind too much.
"I'd love to…"
"I was mostly joking. Mostly." Her laugh rang in the room. "I need to keep up on my studies too, I expect you to do the same, I'm not interested in beating someone who's not trying their 'ardest."
"Yeah, no promises, but I won't be easy to beat."
Harry led the way to the staircase and ushered Fleur forwards. She took each step with a little hop, as if she had forgotten just how far up they were. And just how many damn steps there were.
"No promises?"
"Well, usually something comes up, unexpected, to try and kill me. I'm hoping the tournament is the worst I have to worry about." He tried to pass it off as a joke, some simple boyish bravado he hoped.
"You should be careful then, when I beat you, I want you to be on top form."
This time it wasn't hard to affect a boyish charm.
"I'm always careful, trouble just finds me."
Somehow Fleur managed to copy the looks he had always received when saying that as if she had pulled them from his memory.
The stairs vanished quickly as they descended, neither rushed but the distance felt minuscule compared to the way there. Though they never stopped their chat, Harry could have walked down those stairs forever if it meant such easy and effortless conversation, but the end came soon enough.
Fleur gave him a grin and decidedly flamboyant curtsy, to which Harry replied with a long stare and blink. She giggled as she made her way towards the dungeons, whichever class she had there he couldn't think of a less fitting place for her.
He had to run to make it to Divination, and even then the trap door was closed over. He had to use a summoning charm to get it to open for him, the clatter was enough to make him regret not staying with Fleur all over again. As he reached the top of the ladder, the entire class was staring down at him, some affronted, some amused. Harry offered a weak grin.
Professor Trelawney stood twirling her shawl in her hands, a look of concern faded from her face and turned to relief.
"Ah Mr Potter, right as I expected you, come along, come along." She ushered him into a chair next to Ron.
"Well class, as I was saying, Psychometry is the method of delving into an objects past, and discovering those small nuggets of information pivotal to its existence." She floated over to Parvati and Lavender, both of whom squirmed under her gaze.
"What took you so long?" Ron whispered to him, "No way were you two… you weren't kissing were you?"
Harry grinned but shook his head, if they had kissed he doubted he would be capable of doing much of anything.
"She wants to go to the Ball with me, I think she felt a little guilty for how things ended that night after the First Task, so I've got a second chance."
Ron let out a choking sound, common as it was in the Divination classroom, Harry thought perhaps it wasn't the fumes lingering in the air. Ron gazed around the room, then leaned in, "I have some good news too, Katie agreed to go with me."
Harry grinned at Ron, the joy was evident in his friend, Harry wondered if he had been blind to it due to his recent self absorption. The world seemed brighter through the lens of having a date, and not just any date at that.
"Not all that bad really, Katie and Fleur…"
"Not bad at all, Ron."
"And just what is it you two find so amusing?" Professor Trelawney proclaimed. Her reedy voice seemed at odds with the tone she tried to pull off, Harry still sat up straight though. "Neither of you have even tried to sense the emanance, quickly now, grasp your objects."
Harry glanced at the table, where a small hairbrush and a mirror lay, assuming these were the objects she meant. Ron grabbed the mirror first, throwing a victorious grin to him. The hairbrush felt no different to him than any other, the wood was cold and tough, hardly something to emanate.
"Delve them with your senses. Search for the echo of their feelings, it will resonate inside you until you are full to bursting with it." Professor Trelawney continued. "You need to want to sense it, to learn and share its secrets."
Harry frowned down at the hairbrush, a few bristles stuck out at odd angles, he doubted he could pick it out of a pile; it was that plain.
As if anyone could have an emotional bond with their hairbrush.
"Here allow me to demonstrate." Professor Trelawney reached out for his brush, her eyes focused and somehow distant. Harry held it out towards her, but they missed each other.
Her hand clamped down on his wrist.
Tendons popped and strained on her face, her eyes widened. As quick as it started she snatched her hand away and scrambled off towards the rarely used desk.
Bottles clinked and rattled as she shakily granned herself a large, mostly full, bottle of sherry, Harry glanced down at his wrist. She had never reacted like this to any of her other premonitions.
Professor Trelawney didn't acknowledge the class anymore that lesson, she sat nursing a large glass. Harry had seen Uncle Vernon doing the same after stressful days at work, and knew well it wasn't wise to interrupt her.
The rest of the class gave him furtive glances as they left the room, as though he had done something wrong or deeply offensive. Parvati and Lavender almost ran from him when he came close, even they had been ignored by the strange teacher. Something they took as Harry's fault.
Their scorn didn't matter, they were fickle, he knew that all too well. It had only really hurt when Ron had been against him, then everything had seemed worse. But with Ron on his side, a date with Fleur, and Hermione steadfast as ever, things were looking good.
Perhaps a little too good.
After Defense against the Dark Arts, Professor Moody pulled him aside, his grip strong and immovable on his arm. He gave no indication as to what he wanted, though when he kept Harry back for helping him with the tournament he didn't draw attention to himself. Harry knew it wasn't exactly in line with the rules, so for that 'constant vigilance' he was beyond grateful.
His classmates poured out eager to relax for a few hours before dinner was served, Ron lingered but at Harry's insistent gesture he left. He wouldn't blame Ron, they hadn't been friends since Moody had taken him under his — wing. Hermione patted his arm as she made her way past, she had received the brunt of his frustration at Professor Moody's teaching.
Perhaps not fair on her, she really deserved better, Harry had been aware of how awful it must have been for her. Teachers were still paragons of all Hermione valued; he certainly didn't help by complaining about Moody all the time. But the old auror didn't have to be so vigorous in his teaching.
"So Potter," Professor Moody snapped, "you figure out your clue yet?"
"No, I haven't had much time alone to try and figure it out. It gets a bit loud."
"Hurry up, you think you have the luxury to sit on your thumbs?"
"No Professor, it's just…"
"No excuses Potter, this tournament is the real deal. You did well with the dragon, but not well enough. If you were a little bit less nimble you would have been eaten like a fool."
Harry slammed his mouth shut, if he tried to defend himself Moody would just berate him for his foolishness. Hermione had claimed that he trained new Aurors and it must be a way of teaching them, Harry could see it but he didn't like it.
"So, I can't help you with anything that'll give away what the next task is, so general spell work again." Professor Moody brandished his wand, and with a wide arc cast a spell that sent all the tables and chairs to the walls.
Harry walked towards the middle of the room, where Moody had always preferred to teach from as it gave him more room to run. It always ended that way, one way or another.
"You did well with the stunning spell and the impediment jinx, so we should move on, how is your blasting hex?"
"Not great, sir, never had much use for it."
"That'll change soon enough…"
Moody's face tightened, scars stretched and twisted, and the grin that made Harry's skin crawl bloomed fully on the ex-Auror's face.
A small lump of something dark flew towards him, Harry leapt to the side, instincts he never wanted to lose kicked in.
He jabbed his wand forward, "expulso". Whatever it had been it broke apart and fell to the floor, he turned to see Moody casting another spell at him.
He did the same again.
Before long Harry was panting, his breath tight in his chest. Though Moody wasn't pushing him half as hard as he normally did. He wasn't even bleeding yet.
This time a chair flew towards him and Harry cast his spell early, not wanting splinters to be a threat. The chair burst, and never even reached him. He stood and focused on Moody, a smirk plastered on the old man's face. This time Moody's wand moved almost playfully.
A flick here, a twist and bend there. The floor rattled.
Harry looked down, each and every fragment he had blown apart was slowly rising up in the air at him. He wanted to curse, Moody had been testing his strategy more than spell casting, it was so obvious now. He had never told him what the lesson would be before.
Harry backed away, towards the clearer part of the room, desperate for any inch, any second he could find for himself.
They flew at him, and the air gusted as they did.
He found no footing, debris caught his attempts and held him in place. Throwing his weight around made little difference either.
"You know why you failed don't you?" Professor Moody asked.
His wand gently traced a few bruises and cuts. Harry winced as the wound healed, if it weren't for the magic it would have hurt a lot more, or so he reminded himself.
"I forgot about my surroundings, I didn't consider the terrain a threat, anything else."
"You also underestimated me, a foolish mistake lad." Moody laughed, his smile didn't reflect the sudden humour though.
Harry grinned and nodded, as though he thought the jape funny. He wouldn't admit to Hermione but at times Moody was downright scary, usually when he seemed to think he was being especially clever, or gloating.
"Many wizards, smarter and better than you, have made that mistake…" Moody continued. "They learned eventually, you'd better hope the lesson sticks with you. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
Harry nodded, he wiped his hands on his legs and rose to his feet. Unsure of whether or not they were done for the night. He wasn't sure he was in the mood to hang around, either.
"You'd better go, until you learn what your clue means there's only so much I can help with." Moody growled.
Harry thought there was a dash of disappointment in that, though he couldn't think why. Moody had taken pity on him, offering him some extra help to make sure nothing bad happened.
He also seemed interested in why Harry had been entered into the tournament, having asked him a few times during their lessons, his answers never seemed to satisfy him though.
"Okay Professor, Thank you again." Harry muttered, and walked out the room. He kept his steps steady for as long as he could, Moody's magical eye could see more than Harry had thought possible. And Moody was exceptionally paranoid, the foe glass in his office was always on full alert, Moody had enjoyed describing his odds and ends.
It almost reminded Harry of Mrs Figg and her cats, though perhaps a little more bloodthirsty from Moody.
The common room was bustling when Harry slipped inside, Hermione and Ron were arguing about something, if their waving arms and red faces were anything to go by. Fred and George shouted something at him as he passed, but Harry just went over to the table, eager to relax a bit.
"How was it Harry?" Hermione asked, concern dripping from her voice.
"Not that bad, he isn't willing to do too much until I've figured out the clue." Harry said and stretched out his arms.
"Well I should hope not, that would be cheating after all."
"Sounds like he's really helped out, I know a few people might be jealous hearing that." Ron said.
"Pfft, they are welcome to it, Moody is horrible. He had to heal a few cuts and bruises, I feel sorry for the Auror trainees that had to deal with him." Harry said.
The thought of that made him and Hermione shudder; Ron just frowned. Either they hadn't talked about the lessons with Moody while he had been busy, or they had been arguing too long to remember that part. Either way, Ron caught on pretty quick, he groaned at the right places, which was better than nothing.
After a while Harry went upstairs and got changed out of his school robes, preferring more casual lounging robes. The thought of wearing robes to relax had started to grow on him recently. Despite their strange ways, from the outdated writing to the nonsensical decisions, the Wizarding World was quickly affixing itself deep within him.
The most permanent fixture of those strangeness's, his gobstones, found their way into his robe breast pocket once more. Familiar warmth flooded him and he stretched out, smiling to himself.