A/N: It has been brought to my attention that Cedric Diggory is a Sixth Year when Harry is in Fourth. Cedric also has grey eyes, not blue. I have corrected this. From here on out, Cedric will be referred to as a seventeen year old Sixth Year, just as Hermione is a fifteen year old Fourth Year.
Double Potions
Albus sighed. It was late, the children long gone to bed, and he was tired, deeply tired, but he knew better than to go to bed. Sure enough, his floo flared and his name was called. Albus waved his hand and allowed the fire to admit his caller. The stately blond he'd grown so accustomed to over the summer stepped free of the hearth, and Albus felt a wave of relief. He'd much rather deal with QuatreWinner than the man calling himself the Maxwell Demon or the disturbing young man named Heero Yuy.
A simple gesture of Winner's hand had his robes clean of soot and ash, and the blond moved forward and settled comfortably in the winged back chair on the other side of the desk.
"Good evening, Mr. Winner," Albus welcomed with honest warmth. Although Harry's unexpected guardians resisted him every step of the way, he was certain they'd prove even more tenacious and capable against the enemy.
"I heard about the House Tournament," Winner said, coming to the point. "Did you create this competition or is it really an ancient Hogwarts practice?"
"It is a real tradition," Albus answered calmly. "It has been one hundred and fifty years since a student has transferred above Third Year. Had a student done so, they would have gone through the Tournament as well." Summoning a House-Elf, he requested, "Refreshments, please." The elf bowed and disappeared. A second later a tray appeared on the desk with sweet pastries, tea, and clear cool water.
Albus served Winner as he explained. "A child is more simplistic than an adolescent, whose sense of identity takes a severe blow and whose hormones create a chaotic chemical field that makes reading their deeper personality a bit more difficult for the Sorting Hat. In reality, every person possesses qualities of every House. After a certain age, the personality traits are either too even or mix-matched to Sort fairly. In the end, most teenagers and adults are simply asked which House they'd like to be in."
"Why didn't you do that with Harry?" Winner questioned, gently holding a fragile tea cup and saucer in his hands.
"I could have bypassed this tradition," Albus admitted, but he lowered his chin to look at Winner over the rim of his silver glasses. "However, I decided it was advantageous to adhere to tradition in this instance. Harry will spend an equal amount of time in all four Houses. He will make friends across House boundaries. Friends he most certainly will need in the future. It also allows him access to those students with connections to the other side. He may be able to gather information we cannot."
Winner inclined his head. "It's as you say," the young man said agreeably. "However, I am not pleased we were not warned. I have told you repeatedly that anything pertaining to Harry must go through us first. I am also not pleased how you go out of your way to put Harry on display. He is here, Dumbledore. That is enough. No need to wave him like a flag of challenge in front of everyone's noses."
The blond set his cup and saucer down on the desk between them with a sharp click. His blue eyes narrowed and chilled, the friendly air disappearing as if it had never been. "I want explicit details about these 'tasks' you've set up for Harry. And if I or the others feel it is not appropriate or too dangerous, we reserve the right to veto said task. You will also cease manufacturing scenes where Harry is in the spotlight. Are we clear?"
"And if not?" Albus asked gravely. He was honestly scared the man across from him would say the worst; although he hoped beyond hope he would not. He hoped these young men would be able to see the bigger picture.
"I thought it had been made clear, but maybe not." Winner gave a chilling smile that would have done Severus proud. "We will remove Harry from Hogwarts, leave you and your world to its own fate, and abandon this world for the Colonies where we belong. Always remember, Dumbledore, Harry is our only concern. If we feel his survival or mental health is in danger, we will cease this endeavor."
Albus felt chilled to his very being. "I understand," he said softly.
"That reminds me. There was another matter I wished to ask you about," Winner said, his fierce look shifting into something more neutral. "Do you have any more idea of what we are dealing with concerning the connection between Harry and the Dark Lord?"
Albus shook his head, keeping his mind and face blank of the secret he was keeping. "I have theories that I am still researching. I will let you know as soon as I have reached a solid conclusion."
Winner gave a regal nod. "Then I believe this meeting is over."
Albus said nothing as the man rose and returned through the fire the way he'd come. He sighed, rubbing his forehead with age-knotted fingers. Yes, Harry's family was tenacious and fierce. He only hoped their enemies would get a taste before Harry disappeared among the stars for good this time.
xXx
Harry jerked awake as soon as he sensed his bed curtains being drawn open. Blinking quickly to clear his eyes of sleep, he snagged his glasses from under his pillow. A willowy dark-blond with close-set brown eyes offered him a friendly smile. "Morning. It's almost time for breakfast."
Harry gave a little nod. "Thanks." He quickly slipped over the side of the bed and did a few quick stretches to wake his muscles up. The other three boys were in various states of undress as they got changed for classes that day.
"My name's Ernie Macmillan," the boy introduced. "That's Justin Finch-Fletchley and Wayne Hopkins."
"Hi," Harry offered while looking the other boys over.
The one in the corner furthest from Harry, Justin Finch-Fletchley, had curly brown hair and cool blue eyes. The way he held himself reminded Harry of some of the kids of the politicians Quatre had to deal with. This boy was wealthy and arrogant. Wayne, on the other hand, had thin auburn hair that hung in his eyes. Already it was clear that Wayne was a shy and quiet type.
"Um, where's the bathroom?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.
Ernie pointed to a second Hobbit-like door. "Through there. We share it, of course, but only with each other."
Harry thanked him and quickly made use of the toilet and the sink. The school robes were still awkward as hell. He hated the way they tangled his feet up and weighed his legs down. He made sure they were only clasped closed by a single button, so that if he had to, he could throw them off at a second's notice. When he entered the dorm room again, it was to see all three boys dressed and talking quietly on their beds. They rose when they spotted Harry.
"You ready?" Ernie asked with another friendly smile, and Harry wondered if he was the designated spokesperson or something. The other two boys had yet to speak directly to him, although Justin had sent him plenty of assessing looks.
"Yeah, let's go."
Harry followed them through the common room and the school corridors until they arrived once more at the Great Hall. The table looked like it was segmented by year and age. Cedric sat toward the very end with the other Sixth Years, while Harry was guided toward the middle where the rest of the Fourth Years already waited.
"Morning, Hannah," Ernie called cheerfully to a blond, pigtailed girl.
"Morning!" she answered just as cheerfully before turning her big blue eyes to Harry. "I'm Hannah Abbot. It's nice to meet you."
Harry gave her his most friendly smile. "I'm Harry Potter. Nice to meet you, too."
"Susan Bones," the dark-haired girl introduced herself from next to Hannah.
"Are you related to Commander Bones?" Harry asked, cocking his head.
"She's my Aunt," Susan answered, surprise written all over her face. "Have you met her?"
Harry shook his head. "Not directly, but I had to deal with the DMLE to get myself and my family registered with the British Ministry of Magic."
Breakfast passed in friendly conversation. Harry wasn't asked any personal questions. The Hufflepuffs were really polite, actually. Which figured. From what Harry could understand, most if not all of these kids came from well-to-do families and had strong political ties. Harry was sure their families had driven manners into them from a very young age. As a whole, Harry thought them a well-mannered and friendly group.
As breakfast came to an end, Professor Sprout approached Harry with a smile. "Good morning. Welcome to my House. Hopefully it won't be a temporary visit," she said with a wink. "Here's your class schedule. You have Double Potions with the Gryffindors and Slytherins this morning, I'm afraid."
"Afraid?" Harry questioned, taking the parchment.
Professor Sprout blushed a little bit. "Yes. Well. It is common knowledge that Slytherin and Gryffindor are extremely competitive and antagonistic toward each other. Classes where they're paired can be… interesting… on occasion. If you have any trouble, please let me know."
"I will. Thank you," Harry answered, smiling up at the kind woman.
"Come. I'll introduce you to someone who can help you get to class."
As Harry stood, Professor Sprout put a warm hand on his shoulder and guided him toward the Gryffindor table. Harry wondered if it was just a British thing. In the Colonies, space was limited and it was rather crowded. Sickness was easy to spread, even with the high-tech medicine. So it had become a cultural thing to touch as little as possible. It was considered rude and invasive to grasp someone the way the Headmaster and now Sprout seemed fond of doing. Even kids didn't jostle each other as much as he could see the Hogwarts students did.
Harry was pulled from his musings as they came to a stop midway down the Gryffindor table. His eyes landed on a teenager around Harry's age and his breath caught with recognition.
"Harry, let me introduce you to Mr. Longbottom. He's amazing at Herbology and a very special student," Sprout said with obvious affection. "He's done a lot for this school in his short time here. I think he would be a good friend to have."
"Hi," Harry said faintly as Neville's face turned bright red.
"Hi," Neville returned just as quietly.
"I'll leave you two boys to it, then." Professor Sprout gave them one last bright smile before turning and heading out to her first class of the day.
"Are you really Harry Potter?" a redhead blurted from across the table from Neville. His eyes were wide and adoring and glued to the scar on Harry's forehead.
"Ronald!" a bushy-haired girl snapped with a menacing glare. "Don't be rude!" But others were talking before the redhead could even make a comeback from that sharp reprimand.
"Where have you been all this time?" - "Were you in training?" - "Have you killed anyone before?" - "Are you going to stop You-Know-Who?" – "I heard you were dead!" – "Did you run away?" – "What happened to your Muggle family? I heard they got killed!" – "Was it Death Eaters?" – "Do you remember the night you got your scar?"
Feeling a little shocked by the personal questions (this was way worse than what the Hufflepuffs had asked him by far), Harry took a step back and focused his attention fully on Neville. It was a trick Quatre had taught him. If you looked at someone like they were the only person in the room, it quieted the rest of the group. "Um, I have Double Potions with the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Do you think you could show me the way?"
It seemed to work, the questions coming to a halt, and Neville gave a quick nod. "Of course!"
Neville and the bushy-haired girl stood up and Harry quickly followed them. "This is Hermione Granger. She's my best friend," Neville introduced the girl, talking louder than normal to be heard over the Gryffindor crowd.
"Nice to meet you," Hermione said, almost having to yell to be heard.
Harry gave her a wry smile and yelled back, "Nice to meet you, too."
Their pace was slow due to Neville not able to walk too quickly, and this allowed the rest of the Fourth Year Gryffindors to press in around them and pepper Harry with questions and advice about staying away from slimy Slytherins and telling him how they had Auror parents, uncles, siblings, aunts and how they'd love to learn some of the cool magic Harry knew from his training, maybe they could trade?
It seemed that if Harry didn't answer the questions the Gryffindors asked, they felt perfectly fine making up answers of their own and going on as if those answers were the truth. It was bizarre, but the longer they walked, the more Harry saw that it was harmless. The Gryffindors were simply very enthusiastic and puppy-like. It was abrasive, but there wasn't anything hurtful behind their intent. Harry saw now what qualities had made Sirius a Gryffindor when he was in school. However, Remus and Hermione were a puzzle. Neither of them seemed to have this quality.
It was almost like magic. As soon as they entered the dungeons, the loud and boisterous group of Gryffindors quieted and seemed to walk even closer together. Harry's back straightened and his left hand hovered over where he kept his knife strapped to his thigh, while his right hand tensed around his wand.
Turning a final corner, they came face to face with a group wearing the Slytherin crest. Their expressions were cold and mean as they stared at the Gryffindor arrivals. The boys, not including Neville, stepped forward in a protective gesture. Ron and the Irish boy that Harry hadn't caught a name for had their wands in hand and truly frightening glares on their face. Harry's breath caught, knowing that they were seconds away from having a fight on their hands.
Before anything could happen, however, the Potions door slammed open by an invisible force. Surprised by the sound, Harry bent his knees, lowering himself within the circle of Gryffindors so that he would be less of a target. He straightened as Hermione gave him a strange look and took his arm.
"It's okay. It's always like this," she told him and guided him away from Neville, who moved toward the front of the room.
Harry watched in confusion as the Gryffindor boys had a quick, whispered conversation before Ron moved forward to partner with Neville at the front. The remaining two Gryffindor boys partnered together at the table behind them. The Gryffindor girls partnered together at the third table from the front. Hermione had kept a hold of Harry and kept him with her at the last table closest to the door.
On the other side of the room, the Slytherins had paired off as well. A tall black boy was paired with one of the two hulking blond boys at the back table on the Slytherin side. Both of the large blonds reminded Harry disturbingly of Dudley, and he tried not to look directly at them. The other hulking blond was paired with an aristocratic brunet that had the same body language and attitude as Justin, high-brow and arrogant. They had claimed the next table down. Then there were two sets of girls at the next two tables. This left a single teenage boy with startling white-blond hair alone at the front table.
The blond Slytherin was turned to face the back of the room and was staring directly at Harry. Harry had never seen hair quite as white as this boy's. It was almost colorless, and Harry suddenly remembered the confrontation he'd had with the teen when he'd tried to escape. He remembered that thin throat trapped in his hands and the wild look of shock and fear and fury on those sharp features, and Harry felt sick to his stomach.
"That's Draco Malfoy," Hermione whispered. "He's bad news. Stay away from him."
Before Harry could answer, Snape walked in through a side door, robes billowing menacingly behind him. "Ah, yes," the threatening man whispered. "Our resident celebrity is back at last."
Harry tensed, thinking Snape meant him, but realized quickly that Snape's attention was on Neville. Harry frowned in confusion.
"I hope you are prepared for this class. I will not be pandering to your melodramatics," Snape nearly hissed.
From what Harry could see of the reactions in the class – gleeful and amused Slytherins, resigned and resentful Gryffindors – this was not unexpected. Neville's body language didn't suggest the brunet was in distress, so Harry remained quiet and watchful.
"This semester we will be studying antidotes extensively," Snape continued, voice a little louder as he addressed the class as a whole. "I sincerely hope you put more effort into Potions study this year than you have the ones previous. It would be a shame if you didn't have a correctly brewed antidote when you most need it." Those dark black eyes stared straight at Harry for a long second before shifting to Neville, allowing a sinister smile to stretch across his features.
The implication was, of course, that one of them would be poisoned at some point in the semester, and Harry looked around to see if it was true or just a bluff. By the horrified looks on the Gryffindors' faces, Harry was pretty sure they didn't think Snape was bluffing. He swallowed hard. Maybe he should tell his brothers about this? They had warned him to alert them immediately if Snape acted threatening in any way…
Harry listened as Snape briefly described the antidote they would be working on this week. It sounded difficult, but doable. Snape then spelled the directions onto the blackboard and told them to get to work. Hermione whispered that she'd get the ingredients and Harry prepared the cauldron. Throughout the class, Snape stalked the Gryffindor side of the room, intimidating the teens into making mistakes and grilling them on potion techniques. When a Gryffindor got answers wrong, points were taken left and right. When they got an answer right, Snape would accuse Hermione of telling them the answers. Slytherins, on the other hand, were rewarded for every correct answer and never punished for wrong or incomplete answers.
All of this was upsetting, but what surprised Harry the most was the fact that he seemed to be invisible in Snape's eyes. Harry was never once addressed by Snape. It was as if Hermione was working alone. When the class was finally over, the Slytherins were dismissed without having to clean up their stations.
"It's so that the Slytherins get a head start and fights don't break out in the halls," Hermione whispered.
Frowning, confused, Harry helped Hermione clean their cauldron and table without asking anything more.
"I told you. It's always like this," Hermione was saying as they left. They were the first ones done, but Hermione had insisted they leave instead of wait for the others. Apparently it was every man for himself when it came to Snape. "Snape completely favors his own House and hates Gryffindor with a passion; Neville especially gets bullied. He sits up front so no one else gets caught in the crossfire and the boys take turns partnering with him."
"Why…" Harry began to ask when they turned the corner and had to stop.
The boy Hermione had identified as Draco Malfoy stood in the center of the hallway with the two hulking blonds at his back. His arms were crossed and there was a completely unreadable expression on his face. Harry took a step closer to be in a more conversational range, but Hermione grabbed his arm tightly, keeping him still.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione demanded with dangerous anger in her voice.
"Nothing that involves you, Granger," Draco answered, disgust clear on his face. His grey eyes shifted to Harry. "I want a word with Potter."
Harry could hear the rest of the Gryffindors coming up behind him and quickly twisted his arm from Hermione's painfully tight grip. "I'll be fine," he told her with an easy smile. "I have Herbology with the Slytherins next, anyway. That's probably what he wants."
Hermione stood there silently as Harry crossed the distance to Draco's side.
The blond shot him a wary, surprised glance before going with the flow. "Come along, Potter. We're in Greenhouse 3 with the Ravenclaws," he said haughtily, turning and leading Harry down the corridor. The large teens fell into step behind them, covering their backs, only instead of feeling protected, it made Harry's skin crawl.
Harry sighed and shot a look at Draco beside him. "You're Draco, right?"
Draco didn't answer and Harry sighed again, following silently. They took the stairs to the ground floor where Draco led him to an empty room with a few desks pushed up against the walls.
"You can go. I'll meet you outside," Draco ordered the two hulking Slytherins.
The blonds didn't say a word, merely turned and lumbered off.
Harry watched them go and followed Draco into the classroom. He pulled the door shut behind him, sensing Draco wanted privacy. He wasn't too worried about being alone with the blond. Harry was perfectly capable of defending himself, and no matter how messed up the school was, he was certain Dumbledore had to have alerts and wards in place to detect serious injuries and Dark magic. Besides, the whole point of coming to Hogwarts was to get Intel. Draco Malfoy was the son of a known Death Eater. He would be a good source of information if Harry could pull it off.
The blond had moved to the side, leaning against one of the abandoned desks. He watched Harry come over with narrowed grey eyes, taking in every detail from what Harry was wearing to how he walked to the expression on his face. Tired of the silence already, Harry decided he'd speak first.
"I wanted to apologize for attacking you," he said carefully.
"You seemed pretty freaked out," Draco allowed, but his stance didn't soften in the least.
"Yeah, you could say that." Harry fiddled with his braid nervously, but otherwise allowed himself no other signs of nerves. "So, you said you needed to talk to me."
"From the way you were looking at me in Potions, I thought you had something to say to me," Draco countered.
Harry mentally sighed. He knew this tactic. Draco was trying to get him talking, see if Harry said anything interesting or gave anything away. Draco was probably caught off guard by how easily Harry had come with him and was suspicious. "I wanted to apologize," Harry repeated with a shrug. "I hope I didn't hurt you. It wasn't personal."
"What was up with that, Potter? You seemed desperate to get out. Like someone was keeping you here against your will."
Harry took a moment to study Draco's expression before answering. It looked concerned, but still wary. "I lived on the Colonies since I was eight. My family and I came down for vacation and I was kidnapped. We had no idea what was happening in the Wizarding World. It came as a surprise."
Draco's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Dumbledore kidnapped you?"
Harry shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know who kidnapped me. All I know is that I was kidnapped and escaped, only to be Stunned while I was getting away. Next thing I knew, I woke up here. I panicked and attacked you before I realized I was somewhere safe."
Draco's face shifted into something sly. "I'll forgive you if you sit with me at lunch today after Herbology."
Harry shrugged again. "Is that allowed? Aren't we supposed to sit with our Houses?"
"It's allowed," Draco assured. He stuck out his hand. "Hi. I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
"Harry Potter," Harry said, taking the hand and shaking it a few times.
Draco gave a happy smile. "Come on. We'll be late for Herbology."
Harry followed the blond without protest, wondering about their surprisingly friendly conversation. Harry knew it was very likely Draco's father had ordered him to keep an eye on Harry, just as Harry had been told to keep an eye on the Death Eater kids. One thing was certain; his relationship with Draco wasn't going to be boring.
Chapter end.
A/N: …. So, how was that? Does Snape come across as darker than canon? How about Draco, is he too mature? Let me know what you think!
A/N2: How is the chapter length? Too short?