22.
"Fuck," Cedric exclaimed, taking a seat at the wooden bridge Harry'd asked him to meet in.
"That's what I said," Harry sighed looking over the railing into the ravine below. He rubbed his hands together and tucked them protectively into his pockets.
"Thanks for telling me," Cedric said.
"No problem," Harry replied, looking back at Cedric. "Fleur knows because Madame Maxime was there and Viktor knows because Karkaroff was there. It's only fair someone should tell you. Dumbledore's not doing it."
"Yeah," Cedric said, shaking his head. He eyed Harry a little warily.
"What?" Harry asked, hoisting himself onto the railing, his legs dangling over the edge of the bridge.
"You don't seem very worried," Cedric replied.
"Well, dragons, basilisks, what's the difference?" Harry sighed. "As long as I don't get impaled this time, I don't care about winning this tournament. You have nothing to worry about from me."
"I know that, Harry," Cedric said. "You wouldn't have told me about the dragons if you were serious about winning. I meant that you're not worried because you're powerful, like insanely powerful." Harry looked back at him, a schooled expression on his face.
"How do you suppose that?" he asked.
"Well you almost bashed my head in last year. Before I knew it, I was on the ground and you did that with your eyes closed."
"I'm a very light sleeper." Harry said, shrugging.
"And then every time I helped you with your homework it didn't really seem like you needed the help," Cedric continued, unconvinced.
"I did. I missed like a week of class after our match. Thanks for helping me." Harry likewise kept his poker face up. Cedric nodded, sighing.
"Well, I know you don't want to be in the tournament, Harry. I just don't want you to get hurt." Harry smiled.
"Thanks, Cedric. I mean that."
"Fuck," Moody said, laughing and pointing a finger at Harry.
"Yeah, I know," Harry said, shaking his head.
"What are you going to do about dragons, son?" Moody asked, cackling.
"Well I could do a number of things, about half of which would totally blow my cover," Harry said throwing a book at Moody's head. Moody caught it and chucked it back at him, but missed, sending the book sailing through a gaping hole in the wall. They were in the defense classroom cooling down after another bout of dueling. Around them, the desks had been pushed back in the rough outline of a dueling ring. The room was a mess, with specimen jars strewn across the room, broken windows, and smoldering rafters. On the ceiling, they'd started a scoreboard with ugly tally marks burned into the wood. It read 5 to 6, with Moody leading one match ahead of Harry.
"I say show them what for," Moody said. "I know you'd rather hold back, but what's so bad about the school knowing you're not a soft muggleborn private school milk toast? You have an excuse. Maybe training for the tournament made you stronger. Maybe I'm the best teacher in the world and you've had a miraculous turn." Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Well, Dumbledore is expecting me to be weak. He planned my life so that I would be weak. Snape and Flitwick are worried too. They told me not to hold back for my own safety, but I can't. Even if I used the tournament as an excuse, there's no way I would suddenly know how to do that," he said, gesturing to a corner of the room where a massive wall of fire had bisected all the desks.
"Point taken," Moody said, taking a swig from his flask, still laughing. "Still, no reason why you have to pretend you have the magical reserves of an invalid. You're a fourth year. Use spells a fourth year would know. Be mediocre, just not too mediocre."
"What kind of a teacher are you?" Harry asked, laughing.
"A damn good one, son. Now put this place back together while I take a nap."
"'Arry!" Fleur called one day during lunch hour. She was waiting outside of his last class with an anxious expression on her face. Harry stiffened and motioned for her to follow him. When they reached the abandoned girls' lavatory, Harry encased the room with silencing charms and conjured seats for the both of them. Fleur arched an eyebrow as she took a graceful seat.
"What's up, Fleur?" Harry asked expectantly. He wasn't sure how he felt about her just yet, but she seemed harmless enough.
"I wanted to warn you about the first task. It's dragons. It seemed unfair that I should know ahead of you."
"Oh, er, thanks," Harry said, surprise coloring his voice. "I knew about them. Hagrid, our groundskeeper told me. I told Cedric about them, too. I really appreciate it though."
"Good," Fleur said, looking relieved. "Madame said Dumbledore was the only headmaster not present to see the dragons and I was so worried about you and Cedric. If I may ask, what is this place?"
"Well, it's an abandoned lavatory that's abandoned because a ghost used to live here and that hole over there is the entrance to a hidden chamber that used to hold a basilisk."
"Mon dieu, you British don't do things by halves, do you?" Fleur asked, laughing, not bothered in the least by what Harry told her. "Why choose to meet here?"
"It's surprisingly hard to find privacy in a castle this big. I find attention unsettling and I've been getting too much attention since the tournament started. Also, you're too hot to be seen talking to. My housemates won't leave me alone for weeks if they see you talking to me."
"I know what you mean," Fleur said grimacing. "I dislike people staring at me. I know I am pretty, but it feels uncomfortable to have so many people analyzing you all the time. What right do they have to my body?"
"Glad you understand," Harry said, sitting back into his chair. Harry snapped and Dobby appeared bearing food.
"Master Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said, beaming. "I hopes you like what Dobby has brought you. Oh! A friend!" Dobby snapped, sending his tray floating onto a table Harry conjured. Fleur offered him her hand, which he shook like a tiny gentleman.
"Fleur, this is Dobby. He's the Malfoys' house elf. Dobby, meet Fleur."
"Why, hello, Dobby," Fleur said, giggling as Dobby bowed deeply, his long nose touching the floor.
"Miss Fleur," Dobby said, straightening, "I hope you like what we have prepared. Dobby is so happy Master Potty has company. It makes Dobby sad when he is alone." Dobby snapped his fingers and a second tray appeared in front of Fleur. Another bow and Dobby was gone.
"He's batty, but he's the best," Harry said, tucking into his lunch and inviting Fleur to do the same.
"You eat alone often?" Fleur asked, unfolding her napkin. Harry shrugged.
"Only recently. I've been avoiding the Great Hall. Too many people giving me weird looks," he said, stirring his soup around in the bowl.
"I understand," Fleur sighed. "It is not enough so much has happened to you. This tournament can't be easy for you."
"Nor you. I'm sorry the boys here oggle you. It's so rude."
Fleur laughed. "Yes, well, it is the trouble with being part-veela. Thank you for saying that, Harry."
"I don't think anyone's mentioned to those idiots that veela can throw balls of fire from their hands."
"Shh," Fleur said, putting a finger to her lips. "It's a trade secret." Harry laughed.
"Harry, will you be alright facing dragons? You must be powerful to have beaten the things you have, but these are dragons. They're enormous."
Harry shrugged, still absently stirring his soup appearing to have little intention to actually drink it. "I don't really want to win, you know."
"I understand, but you must not want to die either," Fleur said jokingly. Harry shrugged again.
"I'll think of something. Thanks for worrying about me, Fleur."
Harry mulled over what he was going to do about the first task by himself one day when he had a free hour. He was lying disillusioned on the edge of the fountain in the clocktower courtyard imagining in his head what fighting a dragon would even look like. He'd read everything he could about dragons and the real ones were nothing like the images he'd grown up with. Dudley used to play with little figurines that came out of a machine that extruded hot plastic into moulds and spat out kitschy model dragons with bits of extra plastic on them. The real ones were angrier, larger, and, well, real. Ron, who'd heard about the dragons from his brother Charlie, was beside himself with envy, and couldn't stop talking about how cool it was that Harry was going to get to fight dragons. Draco, upon hearing Ron speak, would start bickering with him over how he should be more worried. At one point, the boys even came to blows.
Harry sighed again, wondering how he ended up resorting to pretending to be a piece of lawn furniture to avoid his two best friends. He gave up studying, dropping another open book about dragons on his face to shade himself from the afternoon sun, and lay spread eagle with his arms flopped carelessly to the side. He sat up when he heard someone crouching behind the fountain where he lay.
"Gah!" Viktor exclaimed, falling back as Harry appeared before him. "Harry, what-" Harry shushed him, placed a finger to his lips, and disillusioned them both.
"Don't move," he hissed. A throng of girls from Hogwarts and Beauxbatons stampeded through the courtyard and into the castle. With the courtyard deserted, Harry cut off his spell and joined Viktor on the floor, leaning up against the fountain.
"So, rough day," Harry said, laughing.
"It is not funny," Viktor said, muscular chest heaving.
"It is so funny," Harry said. "Why are you running from your admirers? I know a house full of boys who would love to be in your position." Viktor shivered.
"I do not like it. They all look at me as if I am piece of meat," Viktor said, shaking his head. "They won't stop following me."
"You don't fancy any of them?" Harry asked, craning his neck to check if any of them wised up and came back.
"No. Only girl I can put up with is your friend. The one with the name I am very bad at pronouncing." Viktor showed signs of a smile.
"Hermione? Yeah, she's the smartest girl in my year, er, probably the whole school actually. I'm glad you're getting along. Don't worry, Hermione's hard to say in English too."
"Yes, she is nice to talk to and she does not make noises that hurt my ears." Harry could have sworn he heard a hint of adoration in Viktor's voice.
"Ah yes, I've always wondered how girls make that noise." They sat in blessed silence for a while.
"The first task is dragons," Viktor said after a while.
"Oh I know," Harry replied, tossing his book into Viktor's lap.
"This book is useless," Viktor said, tossing the book back. Harry laughed.
"I know. I was using it as an excuse to hide from my friends."
"Why would you need to hide from your friends?"
"Draco and Ron keep fighting because Ron thinks I entered the tournament on purpose and I should be happy about it, while Draco knows I didn't and is mad that Ron is treating the tournament like some party."
"I would listen to the one called Draco," Viktor said, nodding.
"I would too, but Ron's my friend. I can't choose one or the other."
"They sound like they are being bad friends by making you choose." Harry shrugged.
"Well," Harry said, "I don't really know what I'm going to do about the dragon. I might wing it."
"Be careful, Harry," Viktor said, looking worriedly at Harry. "Fighting dragons is not like fighting death eaters. They're much bigger, fierier. I do not want to see you hurt."
"Thanks, Viktor," Harry replied. "I'll be fine."
Harry ran into Viktor more often in the weeks approaching the first task. The both of them seemed to be avoiding people at all hours, but Harry never minded his company. They took up flying together in the early mornings. One morning, Harry presented Viktor with one of his modified brooms.
"I made it more durable than mine and there's a cool bonus to this," Harry said twirling the broom around easily in his hands. He hit the ground with one end of the broom, sending sparks dancing into the gravel they stood on. "It's a pretty effective weapon, much more usable as a staff than the one I showed you before. I got the idea from that show your school put on when you got here." He handed the broom to Viktor, who likewise twirled it expertly around his body before grabbing Harry and squeezing the life out of him.
"This is a wonderful gift, Harry," Viktor said, admiring Harry's handiwork. "How did you have the time?"
"I have trouble sleeping, so I carved whenever I couldn't sleep." Viktor looked at him.
"That's not good for you, my friend," he said.
"I'm working on it."
"If you say so," he said, slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Come, let's keep flying." They took to the skies like always, but Harry was in a playful mood. He angled his broom straight up at the sky and Viktor followed on his new broom. Harry went as high as he could and jumped backwards off of his broom, spinning in the air as he plummeted towards the ground. He used accio to call his broom to him at the last second and expertly pulled out of his fall almost parallel to the ground. Viktor flew to where he was, breathing hard.
"You are crazy," he said, though his eyes glittered with admiration. "I've never seen anything like that. How did you know when to break the fall?"
"I didn't," Harry said, laughing. "It's more fun when you don't know." Viktor shook his head, laughing.
The morning of the first task arrived and the quidditch pitch had been turned into a ghastly pit, with rocky terrain crudely bricked in. A dragon's dream nest. Harry arrived feeling underdressed. He didn't want any of his clothes to go up in smoke, so he decided to go with parts of his old quidditch uniform.
"'Arry," Fleur said, bounding up to him.
"Wow, Fleur, what are you wearing?" Harry asked, looking her up and down. She was dressed head to toe in blue and silver, channeling Joan of Arc at the gym with Rocky, replete with leather gloves. Harry could tell with the sight that the ensemble was enchanted with fireproofing charms.
"The headmistress, she is very good at making clothes. She makes all of our uniforms and she surprised me with this last night. She is ever so good." Fleur said, twirling.
"She is," Harry said whistling. The cloth was thin, but it was charmed so well, it was practically bulletproof. "Does she offer lessons? I need to learn that."
"I'll see if she can make you one, Harry," Fleur said, cocking her head.
"Not that I could fill it out as well as you. Promise me you won't let the dragon ruin this," Harry said, gesturing up and down.
"I know, I can hardly bear to wear it, let alone fight in it."
"Another casualty of the tournament" Harry said, shaking his head as if in grief. Fleur laughed companionably.
"You are a strange one, 'Arry."
Viktor and Cedric showed up shortly after and they were ushered into a large tent. Each of them reached into a bag and pulled out a miniature version of the dragon they would be facing. Harry felt something bite his finger and he knew he got the horntail.
"Sorry mate," Cedric said, wincing.
"I'll be fine," Harry said, avoiding the sympathetic gazes of everyone in the room. The other three went first and Harry waited patiently for his turn. A ministry official called his name and he stepped out calmly into into the ring.
Harry was face to face with a great angry lizard with spikes carpeting its body. The hungarian horntail lived up to its name and thrashed its great clubbed tail around, throwing showers of gravel into the air as it hit the floor. It stood guard over a nest full of eggs and Harry's eyes immediately fell upon a golden egg that was his target. He started walking steadfastly towards the nest, wand drawn. The dragon saw him as an immediate threat and roared menacingly in warning. Harry didn't stop and instead reached out with his legilimency, partly out of curiosity. The mind of a dragon was wild and chaotic, with no distinct thoughts, but a flood of anger. The creature wasn't stupid. From their link, he could only feel rage and confusion. He surmised this was a mother dragon in a strange place just trying to protect its nest. He tried his best to communicate that he meant her no harm.
"You're just scared, aren't you?" Harry cooed, lowering his wand. The dragon backed down briefly, causing the crowd to burst into confused conversation. As Harry neared the nest, however, the dragon shook its head and reared back, opening its jaws. Harry could hear the fire igniting in the dragon's chest and lifted his wand.
"Incendio," he said, and did indeed cast a spell that by all appearances seemed like an incendio. However, the jet of flame that erupted from his wand to meet the dragon's fire was a massive inferno that spewed balls of flame in machine-gun-like repetition. The dragon was quickly overwhelmed and took a blow to its snout, causing it to falter and step away from the nest. Engraged, the dragon leapt closer to Harry and tried again, mere inches from Harry's face. Unperturbed, Harry raised his wand, and uttered, "Protego." The audience screamed as flame engulfed him, wrapping around his shield and passing harmlessly over him. As it paused to breathe, Harry cast a powerful lumos, blinding the dragon, whose thrashing tail Harry dove to avoid.
Harry hastened to the nest. As he reached the edge of it, however, the dragon pumped its great wings, blowing Harry off his feet. As he was knocked away, he rolled to break his fall. The dragon was curled protectively around the nest. Harry straightened and levelled his wand at the dragon, all the while looking into the dragon's eyes. With his magic, he seized the dragon's magical core, spreading his own magic through the dragon's body. Legion's latest lessons involved taking over someone's body by essentially taking control over a living thing's soul. In mere moments, Harry had complete control over the dragon's body. It froze and trembled with the effort of trying to break free of its bonds. The sounds of the surrounding crowd disappeared, leaving Harry alone with the dragon.
Harry tightened his hold on the dragon's soul and the dragon cried out, a pitiful whine that made Harry's hair stand on end. Slowly Harry forced the dragon to back away, controlling all its limbs like a marionette. Outwardly, Harry made a show of lashing at the dragon with more incendios, each narrowly missing the dragon's face. All around him, Harry's surroundings burst back into existence, and he was again aware that people were watching him. He released his hold over the dragon when it was clear of the nest.
As Harry knelt to pick up the egg, the dragon retaliated by swatting him away, sending him flying into the stadium walls. Grunting, Harry stood and wiped blood from his cheek, which scraped against the rough stone wall. As he straightened, Harry noticed his right shoulder was dislocated. Bracing himself, he popped it back into place as he'd done countless times as a child.
"Wingardium leviosa," Harry said, wand upraised. A chunk of the wall the size of a small building came loose, slammed into the dragon's right side, hard enough to hurt, but not enough to injure a dragon her size. The rubble pinned one of her wings down to the stadium floor.
"An eye for an eye," Harry said, picking up the egg. He offered the golden egg to the dragon, who sniffed it cautiously. Realizing it was fake, the dragon flattened itself to the floor, tail tucked under its belly. Satisfied that she meant no further harm, Harry levitated the rubble off of the dragon, who then pushed past him and resumed her protective stance over her nest. The crowd was silent as Harry left the ring with his prize, but erupted into cheers as the tent flaps closed behind him.
Harry ran away from the healers and headed straight back towards the castle to try to head off some of the spectators. To his surprise, he saw Viktor ahead of him and he sped up to catch up with him.
"Where are you headed in such a hurry?" Harry asked. In a huff, Viktor looked over his shoulder.
"Away from those people. I do this after every quidditch match. I hate having to talk to people. Reporters, spectators, blech," he said, pulling up the hood of his sweatshirt. Harry laughed, clapping a hand to Viktor's shoulder.
"Come with me," Harry said, gesturing for Viktor to follow. "I've got a really good hiding place." Harry led Viktor to the door to the Room of Requirement, which appeared in the wall as they approached and opened to reveal a room lined with mirrors.
"Well?" Harry asked as Krum hesitated to enter the strange room that had a door that disappeared intermittently. "You coming in or not?" He flopped down on one of the massive pillows that lay strewn about the floor. Viktor followed suit, the door closing quietly behind him.
"What is this place?" Viktor asked, taking off his sweater as Harry magically lit the fireplace.
"A secret room," Harry said, shrugging.
"Yes, but where did it come from?"
"It came with the building. Only appears when someone really needs it. It turns into some neat stuff. Watch." At his beckoning, the room grew vaulted ceilings and large windows that looked out over the side of the castle. Viktor whistled appreciatively.
"Your work with the dragon was impressive," Viktor said after the pair had taken a few minutes to relax and stare at the ceiling.
"Pfft I'm just glad I didn't get roasted. You did way better. Not a scratch on you," Harry replied.
"No, I broke a few of the dragon's eggs," Viktor said, shaking his head. "It was shameful. Your approach was much nicer to the dragon."
Harry snorted. "I dropped a boulder on it."
"Well it hurt you first," Viktor said, winking.
"Fair point," Harry replied.
"Your spell work was also very impressive."
"I only used basic spells. Any third year would know those."
"Yes, but you used them well and with more power than I've ever seen. You're holding back. Someday, I would like to have a proper duel with you and you must promise to give me everything you're capable of."
"You're on, Viktor, after this mess is all over."
After a few more moments of sitting in a companionable silence, Harry picked up his egg and looked it over quizzically in his hands.
"What do you reckon is in here?" Harry asked. Viktor picked up his own egg and fiddled with the claw-like clasp on the top.
"I don't know, but I think this pa-" Viktor was cut off by a loud shrieking that caused him to fumble with the egg and drop it clattering to the floor. He scrambled to the floor to grab the egg and close it, hugging it close to his chest like a football.
"Oh shit," Harry said, laughing and holding his own egg close as if it would open without warning. Viktor woodenly flopped back into his cushion.
"That did not work," Viktor said glibly, glaring at his egg. They spent the next few minutes trying different things with the egg, with all experiments ending in a horrible screech.
"Well, it doesn't seem like it's opening it that's the problem," Harry said. "We set it on fire, froze it, silenced it, and electrocuted it. Nothing's working."
"I'm getting a headache," Viktor said, "like my head is being squeezed under water."
"We haven't tried water," Harry said. He lifted his wand and with a few flourishes created a moderately sized floating rectangular prism of water. Viktor looked at Harry with a strange expression. As his wand sustained the spell, Harry used his other hand to wandlessly levitate his egg into the water and open it. The song that emerged surprised them both.
"So we're going swimming," Harry said, having banished the water.
"In that lake? What's in it?"
"Aside from the giant squid? Not sure. What else could sing?"
"Mermaids," Viktor said. "They like music."
"Dammit," Harry said, tossing his egg onto the floor.
"What?"
"We're in Scotland," Harry said, looking pointedly at Viktor.
"So?"
"Scottish mermaids are ugly...and mean."
"Oh," Viktor said, tossing his egg behind him.
Harry left the Room of Requirement soon after figuring out the egg to head to the Great Hall for dinner. His skin prickled as he entered as every eye in the room swivelled to look at him and the emotions floating through the room were whipped into a fury. He'd put a bandage on his face to hide his injuries, but that didn't stop everyone from staring. He tried hard to block it out like Alistair had showed him to no avail.
"Hey," Harry said, sitting down across from Ron, Hermione, and Neville. The three of the stared at him. "What?"
"Harry, your face," Hermione said, brows furrowed.
"Mate, you're hurt," Ron said. "Didn't you go to the healers?"
"Yeah, Harry. I saw you reset a dislocated shoulder. That's not good for you." Neville said, waves of worry and guilt rolling off of him and mixing with a bigger wave of guilt and shame rolling off of Ron. Harry's brow furrowed.
"I'm fine. I've had worse. At least the dragon didn't turn me into charcoal." Ron gulped and set down his fork.
"Why are you all acting so weird?" Harry forked food onto his plate and tried hard to convince himself to eat it.
"You're hurt, Harry," Hermione said, voice growing thinner the longer she looked at the bruise blooming across his eye socket and nose..
"It's going to keep happening because of the bloody tournament," Harry said, trying to turn his injured side away from her. "Don't worry, Hermione, it'll be gone in a few days."
"Harry, she's worried because you just fought a dragon," Ron said, "and I was worried too. I didn't think you'd have to go up against anything like that, but then my brother Charlie told me which dragons he was bringing here and-I'm so sorry, Harry."
"Do you believe me when I say I didn't want to do this now?" Harry asked, still focusing hard on his greens.
"Yeah, that dragon was scary. You ran straight at it! Why didn't you put it to sleep like Fleur or distract it like Cedric?" Ron's voice sounded angry, but all Harry could feel from him was a suffocating guilt that killed what was left of his appetite.
"Uh, I dunno, Ron," Harry said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "It was a dragon. I didn't know what else to do."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, reaching to put a hand on Harry's. "Please, let us help." More guilt. It was the last Harry could bear. He pulled his hand away gently and got up.
"I'm tired. I'm going to turn in early." He bade them goodnight and left the hall. When he made it out, he held his aching head in both hands trying to block out the voices he could hear in his head.
"Harry!" a voice behind him called, pulling him from his thoughts. Draco ran breathlessly after him, concern etched all over his face. Draco was nicer to be around. Concern was better than guilt and Draco's emotions were more under control.
"Draco, hey," Harry said, slapping a smile onto his face.
"Don't hey me," Draco said flippantly. It was an assuring degree of classic Draco. "Come with me Potter." Harry followed obediently and ended up in the abandoned girls' lavatory again. Draco sat Harry down on the floor and fussed with his cheek.
"Draco, I-"
"Shut it, Potter," Draco said, slapping him lightly on his injured shoulder. Harry hissed.
"Yeah, bet that hurts, you barmy idiot," Draco said, doing something with his wand. "That'll teach you to force a dislocated shoulder back in."
"What are you doing?" Harry's cheek tingled, a cooling sensation spreading over the injured area.
"What's it look like? Saving your good looks. They're about all you have going for you now, since you've clearly lost your mind charging headfirst at a bloody dragon." Draco finished working on his face and moved onto his shoulder.
"Where did you learn that?" Harry asked. Harry was unfamiliar with the spells Draco was using. Aside from Episkey, he didn't know very many healing spells at all, which was slightly worrying.
"I asked Smethwyck to teach me some healing magic over the summer," Draco said, stowing his wand and sitting cross-legged across from Harry. "You clearly have a death wish, so I figured I should learn how to patch you up when you get hurt."
"Thanks, Draco," Harry said, feeling choked up.
"Thank me by being more careful, okay? I know you're not asking for any of this, but would it kill you to be more careful? I want you to hang around longer." Draco's emotions were tightly controlled, but Harry could still tell he was worried.
"Okay, Draco. I promise."
Dinner had long since ended by the time Harry made it back to the common room. Not wanting to bother his housemates by calling on Dobby, Harry decided he'd go down to the kitchens. His head hurt and he wondered if food would help it go away. He made it there with some time to spare before curfew and decided to eat as he watched the house elves busy themselves with preparing the next day's food.
"Hey Harry," a voice said from the door.
"Hey Padma," Harry said, gesturing with his sandwich for her to sit.
"Hungry, huh?" Padma said as she accepted food from an eager house elf. "I saw what went down at dinner. That was super awkward. I don't blame you for losing your appetite."
"Yeah, it was a real bummer of a conversation. I had to get out of there. Splitting headache." Padma nodded, chewing thoughtfully. Harry looked at her curiously. The roiling emotions that had been attacking him from all fronts were strangely absent from Padma.
"How are you after the whole dragon thing anyway? It looked like it hurt," she continued, gesturing to his shoulder.
"I'm good, actually. All healed up."
"That's good. You did good," she said, nodding. They fell silent again, which was nice.
"I'm heading back," Padma said, popping the last bit of her own sandwich in her mouth. "I have to meet with my sister to get my potions notes back. I'll see you back in the dorm?"
"Yeah. Nice talking to you," Harry said as she left. "That was different," Harry said as she left. He gave up trying to eat and banished the half of his sandwich he couldn't stomach. When he made it back into the common room, the headache that had started in the great hall continued tearing its way through Harry's skull. Dean might have asked him a question, but he didn't hear it through his headache.
"You alright, Harry?" Seamus asked, staring at him from his own bed.
"Yeah. 'M tired is all," Harry slurred before collapsing fully clothed into bed. If the boys asked him any more questions, Harry didn't hear them. His mind was instead filled to the brim with voices he could hear as if they were sleeping into his dreams from the minds of every student in the school. The loudest of all, however, seemed to be the voices of his parents, beckoning him to join them, pleading with him to go back to them. Harry woke suddenly, panting and covered in sweat. It was late and the moonless night offered no light in the small dorm. Harry's headache had improved from what little sleep he had, but his gut told him sleeping was going to be difficult again.
Calm. Legion said as soothingly as its voice could get. You are unwell. Remember your lessons with Alistair. Harry changed into his pajamas and silenced the area around his bed.
"The voices are so real," Harry said, holding his head in his hands. "I can't tell if they're real thoughts. My parents can't- I know it can't be-"
Calm. Legion repeated. It is the sickness, child. Some of what you hear may very well be the thoughts of the people in this castle. This Alistair has taught you to process. However, it is impossible that your parents would be able to speak to you. They are with us. What you heard is the sickness attempting to grow the sorrow within you. Be calm and rest for you are not well.
Harry laid down obediently and tried to sleep, taking extra care to silence his bed once more in case he woke up screaming.
The next morning, Harry was the last to leave his dorm room, but was stopped as a little green beetle transformed into Rita Skeeter in front of the door.
"Rita! What the hell-"
"Shush Harry darling," she said in a singsong voice. Harry angrily waved his wand, silencing the room.
"You can't just show up in my dorm, Rita. How do you even know this is my dorm?"
"A girl has her secrets, darling," Rita replied.
"You're making me rethink that restraining order."
"Aw, Harry, I thought we were friends."
"Friends don't sneak into each others rooms in their animagus forms." Rita laughed, patting Harry's head.
"Kid," Rita said, voice all business. "I'm here because I needed to ask you about something."
"Fire away," Harry huffed, sitting on his trunk.
"How much do you know about the attempts on your life?"
"Uh, well," Harry said, unsure of how much he should say, "I know they're all connected to the new Death Eaters. In my first year, there was an attempt to revive Voldemort using the sorcerer's stone. In my second, Dolohov snuck the artifact in that opened the Chamber of Secrets. Last year, well, you know."
"How much do you know about Dumbledore's involvement? Or the ministry's?" Rita's expression was as close to concerned as it could get. Harry gave her a hard look.
"Dumbledore was behind moving the stone here and he knew about the chamber. He was also the one who put Sirius in Azkaban in the first place. He's here now because the ministry needed his fame and legitimacy to endorse the tournament."
"Yeah, that's what I found too," Rita said. Her notes were conspicuously absent. "You know Barty Crouch Sr. was the one who sentenced Sirius to Azkaban, right? Well, this tournament was also his idea. If Dumbledore's word is what got Crouch to make his decision about Sirius, then this might also be Dumbledore's handiwork."
"No kidding," Harry said, wondering where this was going.
"So there's a chance Dumbledore might be manipulating the entire ministry through Crouch." Harry nodded thoughtfully.
"It's not just Crouch, though. Is it?" Harry said.
Rita sighed. "Dumbledore's roots in the ministry are deep. It'll be hard, but I'll see what I can find. To do that, I need something big."
"What is it?" Harry asked, sensing something was wrong.
"I need to write about you, kid. The attempts on your life are the best thing to start with. He left you with your uncle, moved the stone to the school right when you were starting, sent his phoenix to the chamber, and sent Sirius to Azkaban." Harry thought for a long while as Rita spoke, her tone gentle and almost apologetic.
"It's going to be rough, kid. I wanted you to make this decision," she finished.
"Do it."
"Kid-"
"Do it," Harry said again, running a hand over his face. "I'll be okay. Give 'em hell."
"I'll make sure it's worth it," Rita said before turning back into a beetle and flying out the window.
"Mermaids?" Moody questioned incredulously when he next met with Harry. "Oh what a downgrade from dragons." Their surroundings were not in the usual disarray because Moody had decided to change things up a bit and fight Harry in the forbidden forest. Harry lay on the floor recovering from a rather nasty confundus that left him quite unable to tell the sky from the ground.
"Uh yeah," Harry said, trying and failing to sit up, "except we're in Scotland. Why does no one take me seriously when I say that?"
"Because mermaids don't beat dragons." Moody said, picking up Harry by the collar. "Did you hear anything I said about eating some more, son? You're lighter than last time."
"I'm working on it. But yes, on paper, dragons beat mermaids. However, selkies are meaner and smarter than dragons. They make their own weapons and they're underwater. I can deal with a fire breathing lizard on land, but underwater is a different story."
"What are you going to do about it, then?"
"Bubble-Head charm. What else?"
"Aw use your noggin, son." Moody said rapping his knuckles lightly on Harry's head. "Aside from that, how do you think you can get around more easily under water? You were raised in a muggle family. How do those metal boat things get around?"
"You telling me to ride a speedboat through the lake? This isn't Baywatch," Harry said, spelling the dirt off of his trousers.
"No, I meant like propellers and other such tosh. I've taught you a few vortex spells."
"Wouldn't that take too much energy?" Harry thought for a while as Moody continued going on about the propellers. "Broom might not be a bad idea. Water's a fluid like air is. Wouldn't be terribly different. If it isn't allowed, I'd get disqualified and that's even better."
"There's something else you could try," Moody said sheepishly. "I er heard from the dark lord that you could fly without a broom. Might be easier in water, what with buoyancy."
"He told you that?" Harry scoffed. "I only held myself up for less than a minute. You're off your rocker, old man-" Harry was cut off as he was hit with another confundus that knocked the air out of him and flattened him once again to the muddy forest floor.
"That's what you get for disrespecting your elders," Moody said cackling.
"Even if I manage to do something creative about the whole water thing, Karkaroff's still going to give me lower points than Viktor. I don't mind Viktor winning, but what's eating Karkaroff? What did I ever do to him?" Harry crossed his arms, ignoring the wet mud under him.
"Pah," spat Moody, "we could kill him. Asshole like that has it coming."
"Oh, I've hit a sore spot," Harry said, laughing. "What's he to you?"
"I'm not sayin' 'cause you're going to snoop like the bloody busybody you are. Let's just say he was a death eater, but the dark lord wouldn't mind if he dropped dead tomorrow."
"We can't kill a headmaster...can we?"
"We can…" Moody said, turning his head this way and that, "but we shouldn't."
"Are you sulking?"
"No."
"You're sulking."
"Shut up, son."
Eventually, Moody helped him stand up again and demanded to see Harry's flying abilities. Harry obliged, hoping he had the energy to maintain the spell. He used his magic to latch himself onto a magical current and levitated himself a few feet into the air. Like the last time he attempted it, a choppy wind surrounded him and sweat collected on his forehead as he focused on keeping himself in the air. While he undoubtedly kept himself in the air longer, the process still took too much energy and he felt his knees give out as he touched down.
"You see what I mean?" Harry said, panting hard. He flopped back onto the ground, closing his eyes. "Can't do it. Too tiring. Cool party trick, though." Moody was silent as he eyed Harry with his magical eye.
"The problem isn't the spell, son," he huffed, kneeling next to Harry. "The problem is that your body is a train wreck. You're in worse shape than I am. Every time I see you, the bags around your eyes get a little darker and your bones stick out a little more."
"It's not for lack of trying," Harry said, blocking the afternoon sun from his eyes with his hand. "It's just...stuff keeps happening to me every year. I've never had a chance to recover."
"You don't understand," Moody continued, sounding more frustrated as he spoke. "You don't sleep, you don't eat, and something is clearly bothering you that is causing your health to deteriorate that is independent from the crap that happens to you."
"Nothing's bothering me-"
"Rubbish," Moody said, cutting Harry off. "You look at yourself and tell me there's nothing else causing you to waste away like this. Harry, this isn't a joke. If the tournament doesn't get you, whatever you're doing to your own body will. Take it from somebody who knows." Harry moved his hand away to get a look at Moody. His expression was full of anger and concern that he'd never seen on that face. Moody sighed and placed a rough hand on Harry's forehead.
"Humph, no fever," he said. "Hit the showers, son, before you actually catch the plague. Eat something while you're at it. I'll know if you didn't."
Harry's nightmares continued for the next week and Harry could barely keep himself awake during his classes. He took to wearing a glamour during the day to hide the dark circles under his eyes. No amount of spell work, however, could hide that he was slipping.
"Focus, Harry," Snape muttered during one of their lessons as Harry held up a mental shield to block Snape from entering his mind. The shield was already weaker than usual because of his nightmares and it took only one more push from Snape to break through it completely. Harry yelped and fell backwards off of the stool he'd been sitting on. Snape helped him sit up.
"Harry, are you alright? I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that last attack to be so forceful."
"No, it's fine, professor," Harry said, waving away Snape's hands. "It's just a little early and I stayed up too late last night. I think I'm done for the day, though. I'll be late to breakfast." Snape looked utterly unconvinced, but allowed Harry to leave. When he arrived at the Great Hall, however, the students were already abuzz with the news splashed across the front page of the prophet. Rita had made her move. Harry read his own copy, reliving the horrors he'd thought he dealt with over the course of his lifetime. It really was a complete timeline of his life splayed out in powdery printers' ink on the black and white pages of the Prophet. He'd given Rita permission to do this, he reminded himself, but it still left him shattered.
"Harry," Ron said as he sat down. "Did you see this? I don't know what that Skeeter woman is getting at, but this is crazy! Do you really think the tournament is connected with any of this?"
"Well, yeah, Ron, I do." Harry replied haltingly. His skin prickled with the sensation of every eye in the great hall staring at him. He felt raw and his mental shields were all but shredded. He had no energy to maintain them. Draco appeared seemingly out of nowhere and sat on Harry's other side.
"Skeeter really hit the nail on the head, Harry," he said, slapping his own copy of the prophet on the table. "What's she getting at exposing all of this stuff now?"
"She's obviously after the money, git," Ron spat. Draco waved him off.
"She's using this conspiracy against you to bring down more than just Dumbledore. She's practically going against the whole ministry."
"Harry, maybe you should get help, I dunno," Ron said, trying to get Harry's attention. "Can't Susan's aunt help you? Can't the Aurors do anything?"
"Who do you think runs the ministry? Crouch or Fudge would find some way to stop Harry from exposing anything more about the tournament. It's too important." The two boys stood and seemed fit to come to blows.
"You think you know what's best for Harry?" Ron spat, his face turning scarlet with anger. "You belong to a dark family. You hanging around Harry is dangerous. Harry needs real help from real Aurors to fight off the dark wizards that are after him."
"You don't get it, do you, Ronald?" Draco returned. "Dark wizards aside, Harry has more to fear from the ministry you want to run to for help. This tournament might kill him before the dark wizards do. Hell, you encouraged him to participate!" Ron nearly launched himself at Draco before Hermione managed to get in between them. They were making quite a scene and more eyes were drawn to them.
"Sit down you silly fools. If either of you knew Harry at all, you'd know the last thing he wants is for his two best friends to be fighting like this. Look at the state of you two. Harry, I'm so sorry, they promise to behave. Don't you, boys?" Neither Ron nor Draco said a word and finally settled back down with Hermione separating them. The hostility between them was unbearable. Harry felt like he couldn't breathe and his head was slowly being constricted by the negative emotions swirling through the room. He could hear the thoughts of every person in the room as if they were speaking next to him.
"I must be hallucinating," Harry muttered. Legion thundered, warning him to shield, but the other voices in his head drowned them out.
"What?" Hermione asked, watching Harry wearily.
"Nothining, I, uh," Harry stammered. He looked up, not really seeing anyone since he couldn't focus on anything. The whole room seemed blurry. "I need to go." He didn't have the energy to make up an excuse. He stumbled out of his seat and didn't even remember his feet carrying him out of the hall. Before he knew it, he was at the top of the astronomy tower, where the wind roared loud enough to wash away the noise in his head. He sat on the ramparts, pressing his tired head against the cool stone. The view of the grounds from there was breathtaking and the sun had warmed the air enough to clear the morning fog and make the sky crystal clear. Harry didn't know how long he sat there, but he couldn't move the rest of his body and he fought to keep his eyes open. He heard a rush of footsteps behind him.
"Hey, Viktor," Harry mumbled, too tired to turn around.
"Harry, vhat are you doing here?"
"I'm just trying to get away from the noise. It's so loud and I'm so tired."
"Harry, get away from the ledge."
"I'm fine, Viktor, really." Harry's eyelids felt like lead as he pressed his cheek against the cool stone of the ramparts. He longed to sleep and had no strength to stop his body from listing forward almost over the edge. Viktor sprang into action and grabbed a fistful of his cloak, yanking hard to pull Harry away from the ramparts and into his arms, where Harry lay limp like a ragdoll. The last thing Harry remembered was Viktor's tight, trembling embrace before he gave in and fell asleep.
Harry awoke screaming. The noise startled Viktor and Hermione, who sat near his bed. Hermione moved to comfort him, but Harry lashed out violently and would have struck Hermione had Viktor not restrained him. Harry didn't seem to know where he was and didn't notice Viktor was holding him back. Hermione stepped away, crying as she held her hands out before her uselessly. Snape and Madame Pomfrey burst into the room. At the sight of Snape, Harry reached out for him and Snape let him cling to his robes, bony knuckles sticking out starkly against Snape's black robes.
"What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked.
"It is what the muggles call post-traumatic stress," Viktor said. "Many survivors of the war in Bulgaria have this. They have no appetite or they do nothing but drink. At night, they wake up screaming and the nightmares follow them when the sun rises. It is like they never left the war."
"He's right, Ms. Granger," Madame Pomfrey said, waving her wand to cast diagnostic spells and frowning at what she found. "Mr. Potter was reminded of a past trauma by something he saw or heard. He can't hear you right now because he's reliving something."
"But why now? What's making him remember whatever it is he's remembering?"
"This bloody tournament for one," Snape said, rubbing Harry's back. "That article in the Prophet told the world his life's story. He also hasn't eaten a full meal in nearly a week or slept in longer."
"Nobody noticed any of this?" Viktor asked, expression dark.
"Well, silly boy has always been good at hiding things," Snape said, gently stroking Harry's hair.
Harry, still trembling, stirred in his arms and looked confusedly around the room. He let go of Snape and hastily wiped the tears from his face.
"I-uh-I'm sorry," he said, "I thought I was-" back at the Dursleys lying in his own blood, in the chamber with the basilisk attached to his shoulder, staring at his mother's dead body, ripping through his uncle's flesh. Harry shook his head to clear the thoughts from his mind.
"Harry," Snape said, taking Harry's hand. "You're safe now. Take all the time you need." Two more worried faces appeared at the door. Draco and Ron were shoving each other to get into the door. Harry flinched at the sound of their scuffle and looked blankly at his two friends. Viktor grabbed both of them by the collar and threw them onto the floor.
Viktor pointed to Harry's shell-shocked face and, in a quiet voice shaking with restrained rage, said, "Look at him. I find him passed out on astronomy tower. Tournament stressful enough. We fight dragons. Miracle he is not dead and still you fight. You killing him far more than tournament. Leave now. Come back when you come to your senses." Viktor blocked Harry from view with his bulk and pointed to the door. Draco stood, cheeks aflame with shame and anger, and dragged Ron out of the room with him. Snape followed to question them.
"I'm sorry Hermione," Harry said, noticing she was crying. "That must have scared you. Did I-did I…?"
"No, Harry," Hermione said, "you didn't hurt me. You could never hurt me." Madame Pomfrey gave Harry a vial of dreamless sleep, which he looked at warily."
"Take it, Harry," Viktor said, patting Harry on the knee. "It will help you sleep. No more dreams." Harry drank it down obediently and sank into a deep sleep.
When he next woke, Harry blinked the morning sun out of his eyes and turned to find Viktor camped out by his bed, nose buried in a book.
"So you are awake at last," Viktor said, smiling. He snapped the book shut, something actually quite advanced about full-body transfiguration. He ruffled Harry's hair. Harry was still sensitive, but all he could feel from Viktor was radiating happiness.
"How long was I out?"
"All of yesterday and most of this morning," he said, laughing as he passed Harry a glass of water. "I was worried you would never get up. You were like a brick, but breathing."
"Sorry I scared you. I don't really remember much about what happened, but thanks for getting me off of the astronomy tower." Harry looked down at his hands in his lap.
"I'm just glad I got to you in time," Viktor said. "It was a close call, but I am happy you are still here. Come, you must eat. I was given strict orders to make sure you ate when you woke up." As Harry ate, Viktor continued reading, looking up occasionally to make sure Harry was still eating.
Madame Pomfrey let Harry leave the Hospital Wing that afternoon, but gave him orders to rest. Harry was grateful to be out. He needed time to go someplace quiet to rebuild his mental shields. As he exited the corridor, however, he was shoved in a different direction.
"Padma, Parvati, wha-"
"Shut it, Potter. You're coming with us." Padma said, her sister giggling as they tugged at his hands. They led him to the Divination classroom of all places.
"You're confused," Parvati said. "Professor Trelawney lets us study in here."
"Yes, but why did you bring me here?"
"We missed you in class today and figured you'd finally snapped," Padma said, sitting on the soft rug in front of the fire.
"Snapped?"
"Yeah, Harry," Parvati said, taking a seat by her sister and patting the floor next to her. "Sit down. We saw your breakdown coming from a mile away. You need better shields. We could feel you losing it."
"We're empaths, Harry, duh," Padma said, laughing. "Anyway, we couldn't just sit by and watch you suffer like this. We're going to help you."
"What's an empath?" Harry watched as they joined hands and didn't fight them when they grabbed his hands.
"It's a family thing." Parvati said as she took his right hand in hers. "We can read the emotions of people around us."
"We shield to avoid being overwhelmed like you were," Padma said, taking his left hand in hers. "It was quite a shock when we felt that you were reading people as well. You hadn't shown any signs in all the time we've known you. We knew you were a legilimens, but you started shielding from emotions this year."
"Yeah, well, it's kind of new to me. Something happened to me last year." The twins looked at each other, their expressions inscrutable. Their minds were silent, which was welcome.
"Father will want to meet you." Padma said at last. "Later. First we fix you before you go mad."
"How did you build your shields before, Harry?" Parvati asked.
"A friend taught me to meditate. I used that to build my occlumency shields, so I thought this wouldn't be any different."
"That should have worked," Padma said thoughtfully. "Most empaths choose their own mediums to build their shields with. Perhaps the shape of your shield was the problem."
"Shape?"
"We'll show you. Close your eyes. Listen for the voices that aren't your own. All the people in this castle thinking their thoughts and feeling all those feelings. Hold them away from you." As Padma spoke, Parvati hummed a note in a soft drone. Padma joined her and they began singing words he didn't understand. As the notes of their song bounced up and down in a complex web of carnatic music, Harry could feel what seemed to be a tight web of magic weaving itself around himself, keeping the thoughts and emotions of the castle safely locked outside of his mind. When they finished, the persistent hum of emotions that had been assaulting Harry finally grew silent.
"That was awesome. It's like a chainmail shield. What I had before was more like an eggshell. This is so much better." The twins looked at each other.
"I'm impressed," Padma said, releasing Harry's hand. "You're a fast learner."
"You can do it too," Parvati said, "but you don't need to learn Hindi or sing. Just do what you normally do and change the shape of the shield. Try it now with the second layer." Harry took up his meditative posture, focusing inward on his magical core. He weaved a thick blanket of magic around him, further distancing his mind from the world's emotions."
"I think he's got it," Padma said. "You'll give us a run for our money, Harry."
"What was it like growing up with this? When I started feeling it, I thought I was going crazy."
"We had each other and our family," Parvati said, smiling at Padma. "Our mother taught us to sing and build out shields that way. We could anchor ourselves by being around each other. There was always someone whose mind was quiet that we could find solace in."
"That sounds really nice. I'd love to talk to you two more about your abilities."
"How did you become an empath, Harry?" Padma asked.
"Well remember the dementor thing from last year?" The twins nodded, their expressions serious. "I had my soul half sucked out by them and when I recovered, I'd picked up some of the dementors' abilities to read people's sorrow."
Padma gasped. "You mean all you're reading is sorrow?"
"Well I can feel everything, but the negative emotions are just loud. It was driving me crazy." Both of them looked sympathetic. "And it took me to a really dark place, hence my breakdown."
"I wish we'd helped you earlier," Padma said, shuddering at the thought of hearing the negative emotions of every person in Hogwarts. "We just weren't sure what you were."
"Well you've really done me a huge favor. I've got to repay it. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"I'm sure we can think of something," the twins said, smiling.
After leaving the Divination classroom, he made slow progress towards the Gryffindor common room. Now that his mind was quiet again, Harry could think. It was almost unthinkable to him that he would end up in that position atop the astronomy tower and how real his flashbacks had been in the hospital wing. He ran his fingers through his hair as his legs brought him to the fat lady's portrait. He almost didn't notice Ron and Draco leaning against the wall waiting for him.
"Harry!" they shouted. They looked at each other and kneeled in front of him.
"What's this then?" Harry asked, suddenly insecure at the display in front of him. He knelt too, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Get up, you two. This is entirely unnecessary."
"It is necessary, Harry," Draco said, relief in his voice as he looked into Harry's eyes.
"Yeah, Harry," Ron said, almost crying. "We were being asses."
"Not the way I'd put it, but yeah," Draco continued. "We should have thought of your feelings and supported you. Neither of us even noticed you were off your eating schedule or how tired you looked. All we were focused on was fighting over who was a better friend."
"I didn't notice anything was wrong, Harry," Ron said, "and I live with you. What kind of a friend am I?" To shut them up, Harry hugged them both tightly.
"I'm the idiot. I didn't even notice I wasn't eating properly. I was so stressed, I just fell into old habits. Listen, I hid that I was tired from everybody. I didn't want anyone's pity and I know I look a mess." Harry released them and helped them stand up.
"But we should have noticed even if you were hiding it, Harry," Draco said. "If we were paying attention more-"
"I wore a glamor, Draco. Look at me now. Did I look like this the last time you saw me? This doesn't happen overnight." Harry's face was pale with fatigue, his eyes were red and rimmed with dark, almost purple shadows. The two were silent for a while.
"Mate, you really do look like shit," Ron said.
"Git, why'd you have to be so good at hiding stuff like this." Draco said.
"Yes, yes, it's all my fault. Can everyone please go back to normal now?" The two agreed and urged Harry to go get some sleep. The next morning, Harry rose and flew out the window. It had been a restful sleep and he felt good for the first time since the first challenge. He stretched as he watched the sunrise from his broom.
"Hey Viktor," Harry said, as he sensed Viktor coming on his own broom.
"You are looking much better, my friend," Viktor responded.
"Yeah well, who knew what a good night's sleep can do."
"Don't you mean two days?" They laughed good naturedly and landed on the castle grounds. They stood next to each other on the grass and stared at the morning sky.
"So," Harry started, "you didn't tell my friends I was about to fall off of the astronomy tower?" Viktor shook his head.
"That was your business. Whatever reason you had to be up there, I did not want to assume." Harry looked at his hands.
"I want you to know I really was just too tired to move up there. I don't plan on dying any time soon."
"That is good, Harry." Viktor crossed his arms over his chest and stared pensively across the ground of Hogwarts set alight by the tongues of orange flames emanating from the sun breaking through the clouds. He avoided Harry's eyes.
"Why were you up there anyway, Viktor?" Harry asked after a while.
"Hermione came and found me. She couldn't find you and she was worried about you. I ran everywhere you liked to hide like a madman and found you up there. When I saw you, you almost made my heart jump out of my chest."
"I'm sorry I scared you. I must have looked awful passed out like that." Viktor moved closer and wrapped his arms gently around him. One of his large hands touched Harry's cheek, his long fingers grazing the skin, before threading themselves through Harry's hair.
"You're beautiful," he said, eyes watching as strands of hair slipped from his fingers.
"Viktor, I-"
"I know," Viktor said, chuckling. "I am courting your friend. I would not betray her by lusting after you. But you are precious to me still." He held Harry closer, tucking Harry's head under his chin. The sting of the fear rolling off of Viktor permeated Harry's body as he listened to the slow beating of his heart. "I thought my heart would shatter when you fainted in my arms." He planted a kiss on the top of Harry's head. Viktor smelled of sandalwood and the morning dew.
"You do not know, but you have an effect on people, Harry Potter. I envy the person you will someday call your love." They stayed like that for a time. Eventually, Viktor unfurled his arms and walked back towards the castle. Harry sank into the fluffy grass, ignoring the bits that clung to his clothes.
Peace, young one, Legion murmured gently in Harry's ear. Harry held a hand over his heart and listened to it still ticking in his chest. Human love has always been something unknowable even to us. To that one, you are more than brother, but not quite lover. His care for you is deep, though you have known him a short time. Legion sounded amused, though Harry didn't think any of that was funny.
"He was so afraid I would die," Harry said quietly. "I never thought-"
You took for granted before how you affected others each time you were close to death, Legion hummed. This gift of the wraiths has allowed you to feel that many people love you and love you fiercely. The thought of your death hurts your loved ones more than any physical pain.
"I've thought about dying for as long as I can remember," Harry whispered.
We are aware. This sorrow is etched into your bones by the pain you have endured. It is not yet time for you you to join us, so take solace. It is a mortal pain you must continue enduring.
"What if I had died on the tower? Or any of the other times I almost died?"
We would not have allowed it, Legion said simply.
"What do you mean?" Legion remained silent. Harry sighed and returned to the castle for breakfast.
McGonagall made her announcement about the Yule Ball after Transfiguration one day and Harry bristled at the thought of having to parade himself in front of the school like some kind of show pony. He was so preoccupied with the thought of it, he almost missed the look of utter horror on Ron's face as McGonagall corrected his dancing form. Padma and Parvati cornered him.
"We know what we want," Padma said, eyes twinkling.
"Anything you ask," Harry said, smiling.
"Take Parvati to the dance," Padma said.
"Wouldn't that be unfair to you, Padma? I mean if I could take both of you, I would, but I don't think I'm allowed two dates even with my vanity," Harry said jokingly.
"It's quite alright, Harry," Padma said, laughing. "My sister is the one who loves dancing. If she's happy, I'm happy." Ron wandered to join them, hands stuck in the air still as if he was still dancing.
"How about you go with Ron, Padma?" Harry said, laughing. "He's not much to look at, but he's funny. I promise." Padma laughed as Ron blinked and gaped at Harry in a daze. The students split up into pairs and Harry ended up being paired with Hermione.
"Are you going with Parvati, then, Harry?" Hermione asked, taking Harry's hand.
"Yeah I owed her a really big favor. She's really nice," Harry said.
"Were you planning on asking anyone else?"
"No, not really. Hadn't really thought about it."
"I figured. You've never shown interest in anybody," Hermione replied, contemplatively. The music started and Harry had to dodge Hermione's foot.
"Heh well I've never had time to think about romance. What about you? Anyone whose name starts with a V and ends with 'iktor' show any signs of asking you?" Hermione cleared her throat and her face turned red.
"Ah, so he finally did it," Harry said, laughing. "I was getting worried he would wait until the tournament was over. Congratulations, Hermione. I mean it."
"Thanks Harry," Hermione said, letting Harry lead the way.
"If he does anything to hurt you, he'll have to answer to me," Harry said jokingly.
"Don't you dare."
"I'm kidding, Hermione. He's a great guy and a good friend. I'm so happy you two have found each other." Hermione smiled and accidentally stepped on his foot.
"Ow, 'mione. We really need to work on your dancing." As they danced, Harry noticed an especially malignant cloud of emotions that he could sense even through his new and improved shields. As they switched pairs, Harry found Parvati.
"Do you feel that?" Harry asked as the music began again.
"Yeah, it's coming from over there," Parvati said, gesturing to a cluster of students from Slytherin. Harry twirled Parvati a little closer to them and Harry probed gently through the students.
"It's that guy," Parvati said, as the song came to an end. It was a smaller boy with brown hair that hung in front of his eyes. He looked as if he was trying to blend in with the floor and his dance partner glared daggers at him. The boy gave up on dancing and sat against the wall with other students who were taking a break. Harry leaned against the wall opposite the boy and attempted to make eye contact to read his thoughts. He only got flashes of thoughts, barely anything at all, but it was clear that he was thinking about the tournament and about Harry. The dance lesson was soon over and Harry still didn't know who the boy was.
"Harry, you already have a date?" Draco said, slinging an arm across Harry's shoulders as they left the classroom. "Mate, you need to help me out. I'm thinking of asking a few people, but I'm stuck. I don't know where to start. You listening?" Harry was, but he was busy tracking the mysterious boy.
"Who's he, Draco?"
"Oh him? That's Theodore Nott. Father used to work with his father, if you know what I mean. He only has his father, so I guess he's a bit shy because he grew up without a mum and all. Why. he say anything to you?"
"I just got a weird feeling from him." Harry had to make a quick decision and pulled Draco all the way to the abandoned lavatory.
"Harry, can you tell me what's going on?"
"I'm working on the whole being straightforward with you thing."
"Alright, what have you got for me?"
"You know how Snape's been teaching me occlumency?"
"Yeah, he's taught me before too. What of it?"
"Well he's teaching me more advanced things because I kind of knew how to do that already. I'm a legilimens."
"You can read minds?"
"Yes."
"Have you read my mind?"
"No, 'course not. You would have noticed anyway, right?"
"I suppose." Draco nodded and motioned for Harry to continue talking. "And Theo Nott?"
"Yes, well, I got a weird feeling from him in the dance hall and I tried reading his thoughts. I couldn't get enough eye contact, but he knows something about this tournament."
"I'll look into it. I've known Theo a while. I'll get him to talk."
"You sure? Draco, I-"
"Please, Harry. Let me help you out." Harry sighed and nodded.
"Now you have to help me. I'm thinking of asking Daphne, but she's a little boring. Pansy is also a good option. She's more interesting, but she's more of a friend."
"Oh so Daphne's more than a friend?"
"Not really, she's just more distant. Pansy's like a sister. It would be weird."
"I don't think so," Harry said, shrugging, "I'm going with Parvati as a friend. She just likes dancing and I figured I'd pay back a favor by taking her as a champion."
"You're not, you know, romantically interested in anyone?"
"Nah, never thought about it. No time. I spend all of my time trying not to die."
"You're not wrong. I don't blame you."
"How about you?"
"No, I don't have anyone either. I mean, mother wishes I'd bring a someone home, but I haven't really thought too much about it either. Plenty have asked, of course, but I turned down everybody so far. Anybody ever confess their love to you? You're the boy who lived. There's no way no one's tried." Harry hesitated, fiddling with his tie.
"Viktor told me he thought I was beautiful."
"What?" Draco asked a little too loudly.. "What do you mean Viktor Krum said you were beautiful? What did you say?"
"I didn't know what to say. I was about to turn him down because of Hermione, but he said it for me."
"That's...complicated," Draco said, patting Harry on the back.
"This has never happened to me before. I didn't know what I was doing."
"Well, this might keep happening to you. Just be honest when it does."
"Thanks, Draco."
As the holidays approached, Harry was nowhere closer to figuring out how he was going to fight underwater. The bubble head charm would work, but he was doubtful it was the best way to travel underwater.
"That is a problem," Professor McGonagall said as they sipped tea in front of the fire in her office. Harry had trudged into his lessons whining about the second task. McGonagall sat comfortably in her armchair draped in her favorite knitted shawl with her hair in a long braid slung over her shoulder.
Harry pouted and drew up his knees to his chin. "It's not a good time to practice. There's snow everywhere and it's freezing."
"My dear," McGonagall said, setting down her tea. "What have you learned in our time together that you could use against the weather?"
"Heating charm," Harry replied dryly. He played with the ends of his hair petulantly.
"If you knew, then why is it still a problem?" McGonagall asked, eyes twinkling. She stood and slapped Harry's hands out of the way, pulling his hair back and braiding it neatly as she spoke. "I know this is a trying time for you, but you're very capable. I can't help you with all the answers, but I can make sure you don't bungle your spells. You're my best student, so act like it."
"I know, I'm just not looking forward to being waterlogged for the foreseeable future," Harry sighed. "I'll hit the library tomorrow to research spells. What about gills? Can I give myself gills? And fins?"
"Well, yes, theoretically. I've never tried it myself, but you've gotten very far with human transfiguration lately, though I'm sure Mr. Weasley will not be as willing to be a test subject as he was the first time you tried it. You would have to know exactly which parts of your circulatory system are different than that of a fish."
"Sounds like work," Harry said, laughing, "but when is it never hard work with transfiguration."
"I'll give you permission to use the restricted section," McGonagall said, patting Harry's knee. "Let me look over your diagrams and calculations before you try anything. The last thing I need is for you to turn into a whale in the middle of the dormitory."
"Alright, alright," Harry said. "Why did it have to be underwater?"
"Don't whine, Harry."
"Yes, ma'am." McGonagall finished with his hair and tended to the fire. Harry stared darkly out into the flurry of snow outside.