Author's Notes: The Rotten Writer here again ladies and gentlemen. Sorry about the delay on this chapter. It's been a rough few weeks and I'll admit, I also got distracted by a shiny new story idea that I've been working on on the side.
Finally getting back into the swing of things here and looking forward to getting on with Fourth Year for our favorite bonded quartet. This chapter finally moves us along. Not exceptionally long but should be a good bit to hold you guys until I get the next chapter out and we start delving into the nitty and gritty. As I've said before, this is the last year that should be sticking even close-ish to canon but I've already shown what some of the changes are going to be in this chapter alone and I look forward to hearing what you guys think about it.
Disclaimer: I own not the Harry Potter franchise
Here it is, Chapter 47 of Soul Scars. Enjoy.
Soul Scars Part Four
Allegria
by,
Rtnwriter
The morning after the Quidditch World Cup came early for Harry Potter. His glowing green eyes greeted the world at a quarter past four in the morning, and he blinked several times as he attempted to take in his surroundings. It was clear to him in an instant that he was in his room back at the Boneyard, though exactly how he got there was decidedly unclear.
His last truly clear memories were not long after he'd cast the Siege Engine spell, followed by only vague recollections and snippets of memories before spinning blackness had overcome him. As his mind slowly became more awake he finally took notice of a, somewhat, familiar sight that he'd been too distracted to note, at first.
A cloud of brown strands partially obscured his vision and he blinked again, this time in confusion. His mind connected the dots slowly, coming up with only one possible answer.
Hermione? he thought in bleary confusion. He was lying on his left side as she laid on her right, so that they were facing each other, and his eyes shifted down slightly, taking in his bond mates sleeping face, for a moment before he started to become aware of even more changes in his usual sleeping arrangements; Namely that there was a slim arm wrapped around his chest coming from behind him.
Gingerly lifting the arm wrapped around him, he sat up in the bed and turned to find Susan had been spooned up against his back with Daphne asleep on her stomach, laying just beyond the redhead.
What in Merlin's name is going on, here? he wondered, while simultaneously thanking every deity there had ever been, was, or ever would be, that he'd woken before them. Stifling a pained groan as his shoulder and knee both protested his actions, he hoped to escape before any of the girls had noticed a certain embarrassing morning condition to which males are prone.
It took several minutes of careful, painful navigation, but eventually he climbed over the foot of the bed and turned back in time to see Hermione unconsciously sliding into the warm spot he'd left behind, curling into Susan with her head resting on the redhead's well developed chest. A brilliant flush, instantly, bloomed into existence on his face, seeing his girls so intimately entwined with each other and he shook his head violently before he straightened up, unable to stop the groan that time as his weight settled on his bad knee.
"I'm much too young, to feel this damn old," he muttered, quoting a song he vaguely remembered hearing sometime before he received his Hogwarts Letter, while he shuffled his way to the restroom, to cautiously take care of his morning business. It was when he turned to wash his hands, and finally got a good look at himself in the mirror, that he really took stock of the damage he'd done to himself.
He was shirtless, and wearing a pair of dark grey sweatpants and the lack of a shirt clearly showed the massive bruising around his shoulder and the upper-right part of his chest. He winced sharply, deciding the worst bruising must have been the result of not getting the kind of quick medical treatment that was available at school. The bruises were impossible to avoid with the kind of injury he'd received, and he knew Madam Pomfrey would have already had at least one application of bruise salve applied, so they wouldn't be quite as dark the day after, as they are currently.
"I'm not even going to wonder who changed my clothes and simply choose to believe that Sirius did it," he mused. He shuffled his way back into his bedroom from the bathroom before moving toward his closet; Running or exercising was obviously out of the question, he decided after a few moments of thought, but the idea of not doing any of his usual morning routine just didn't sit well with him; so he pulled out a short sleeved shirt, and set about painfully pulling the soft material on, even though it felt rather uncomfortable against his bruises.
With his shirt on, he decided to leave the sweat pants as they were and then eyed his trainers and dragon hide boots where they were lined up against the wall near the door. Looking back and forth from the shoes to his bare feet several times, he finally decided that he would be going without, as attempting to pull them on would likely be more trouble than they were worth. He left the room as quietly as he could and slowly made his way downstairs and out into the backyard.
By the time he got there, sweat was standing out on his forehead and he was panting slightly from the exertion; but he pushed his discomfort aside and kept going until he was able to sit on the stone wall that bordered the patio. The ever burning flame in the fire pit behind him danced cheerfully as he took a moment to relax and breathe in some of the slightly cooler, early morning air suffusing the area before the heat of the day could start to kick in and burn away the calming ambiance.
After several minutes, he finally felt ready and, gritting his teeth through the pain, he lifted his right arm to point his hand toward one of the distant target dummies they had scattered about the yard.
"Diffindo."
#####
At five in the morning, Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She laid perfectly still for several moments in confusion about a strange feeling of emptiness, before she shot up out of Susan's arms into a sitting position on the bed, her eyes darting around wildly even as Susan groaned at the disturbance and rolled away from her and toward a bleary eyed Daphne.
"Wake up," Hermione said, reaching out to give the redhead's upturned bum a solid slap. She smirked briefly at the surprised yelp the action elicited. "Harry's gone," she commented. The worry lacing her voice succeeded in quickly rousing both of the other girls before all three of them scrambled out of the bed.
Rushing into the kitchen a few minutes later, they found the back door standing open. Flashing lights and noise drew them outside, only to encounter Sirius standing on the back patio watching a sweat soaked Harry Potter as their bondmate sat on the wall, methodically sending spell after spell hurtling across the yard at various target dummies.
"I found him like this about twenty minutes ago," Sirius said without turning to look at them. "No idea how long he's been out here."
Hermione sighed, a sound of mixed relief and exasperation and moved past the man to approach Harry, hesitantly reaching out to take his shaking arm in her hands once she was close enough to do so. The moment she touched him, the spells stopped and the only sound was his harsh, ragged breathing.
"Hey," he murmured as she gently lowered his arm to his side.
Her response came out as a whisper, "hey, yourself."
"Did I wake you?"
She shook her head as Susan and Daphne joined them at the wall. "No, we were just... worried when you weren't in bed with us."
He blinked and finally turned to face her more fully. "Worried? Why?" he asked, clearly confused.
"We don't like seeing you wallow like this, Harry," Daphne explained.
"And you're injured," Susan felt the distinct need to point out, frowning at him in a manner disturbingly reminiscent of Madam Pomfrey.
"Wallow?" He blinked again, looking completely bewildered for a moment before his confusion suddenly melted away into understanding. "You thought I was feeling guilty," he said, a clear statement instead of a question and the girls nodded. His smile was gentle and genuine and he lifted his good hand up to gently cup Hermione's cheek.
"I get it," he told them, his eyes darting to each of them for a moment before returning to her cinnamon gaze. "After helping Neville when he felt guilty last year… I get it. I didn't cause the attack. Yes, there were people we couldn't save, and I feel awful about that, but I managed to save you. I know I did the best I could. I've been thinking about it since I came out here and I know I did the best that I could. We all did. So I don't have anything to feel guilty about. Not this time."
"Well… what are you doing out here then, if not beating yourself up?" Susan asked the question they were all thinking.
He shrugged his good shoulder. "I woke up really early. I can't run or workout. It just didn't feel right to not do any work at all, you know? So I figured spell practice was my best bet."
Behind them, Sirius started chuckling. "You had us worried, Pup," he said, his dark eyes still worried despite the cheerful tone of voice. "Why don't you go shower and then come back down to the parlor? I'll see if Madam Pomfrey can make a house call."
Harry grimaced at that, which saw a return of Sirius' barking laugh, and even brought a smile to the girl's faces. With a sigh of resignation followed by a pained groan, he stood and slowly limped his way into the house.
"No, Sirius," Susan said after Harry was gone.
"I didn't say anything," he protested.
"No, but you were going to. Harry takes great pains to hide the scars. The only reason you saw them is because you changed his clothes last night. He's comfortable here, and probably didn't even think about the fact that his shirt had short sleeves. If he hasn't told you, yet, we're not going to. You'll have to ask him, yourself."
"If he doesn't want to tell you," Hermione added, "and you continue to pester him about them, I will find a way to make sure that every time you turn into Padfoot, your fur will be glow-in-the-dark pink."
With his hands held out in front of him, Sirius slowly backed into the house, leaving the girls alone with the coming dawn as he went to Floo call Madam Pomfrey.
#####
"Well," Madam Pomfrey said nearly an hour later after she finished examining Harry. "I'm not sure who treated you, but for a bit of emergency first aid, they did a damn good job," she admitted. "Unfortunately, emergency first aid is not the same thing as proper healing. You'll need to rest that arm and shoulder for at least two weeks-"
"Two weeks?!" Harry burst out, cutting her off then cringing when she turned a gimlet eye on him for his rudeness.
"At least," she confirmed. "The emergency measures taken were adequate but insufficient to promote good healing.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out several potions and a very familiar looking jar of bruise salve. She handed the jar off to Hermione, who was barely hiding an amused smirk at the several disgusted faces Harry was making at the sight of the many potions.
"Make all the faces you want, Harry," Madam Pomfrey said without looking up from her bag. "But you'll be drinking these potions if I have to tie you down and force feed them to you."
"I never said I wouldn't take them," he muttered sullenly, then winced when he tried to cross his arms over his chest and his shoulder twinged in pain. "Doesn't mean I have to like them."
By the time Madam Pomfrey left, the Sun was well above the horizon and the smell of breakfast cooking was wafting from the direction of the kitchen.
"Breakfast?" Harry asked of the group as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. His knee twinged a few times but he was able to walk without limping.
"You should be resting," Sirius pointed out.
"Walking to the kitchen isn't going to overly tax me, Sirius," Harry countered. "It's breakfast time, and I'm hungry, so I'm going to the kitchen."
As he walked away, Harry felt a certain satisfaction that he'd been able to curb the initial response that had wanted to fly from his lips and change it into something else before he actually spoke. He didn't think 'I'll rest when I'm dead,' would have gone over well with the girls; or Sirius, for that matter.
It didn't take long before he heard the sound of several different sets of footsteps behind him, but he paid them no mind as he pressed on into the kitchen where to take a seat in front of a plate already piled high with his favorites. A cup of coffee appeared near his good hand as the others took their seats.
The five of them ate in almost complete silence for a while and Harry couldn't help but wonder over their strange behavior. Normally the girls were talkative during breakfast, discussing any number of topics, and Sirius usually seemed as if he was physically incapable of being quiet when there was an audience to potentially entertain.
"Okay, what the hell is going on with the four of you?" he finally demanded after the eerie silence had stretched into it's tenth minute. "Why are you all watching me as if you're waiting for me to do a trick or something?"
"Sorry, Harry," Susan muttered, ducking her head slightly as she spoke. "It's just… it's a little strange to see you so calm after something like last night. You always blame yourself for things so much, we thought you'd be taking this a bit harder."
He sighed and set down his fork. "I already said I get it. I understand why you'd worry but… well…. It's not that I'm not upset, because I am, but there is literally not one thing that I can do to change any of it, so I decided not to let it rule me. All I can do is get better, get stronger, get faster... and maybe the next time something bad happens I can help more people than I managed to help last night."
He turned his attention back to his food and the conversation slowly began to pick up as the girls started discussing what plans they might have for the last few weeks of summer before the four of them had to return to school. Sirius kept his silence however, his eyes rarely straying far from Harry, one leg jittering anxiously under the table.
"What happened?" he finally burst out, unable to contain himself any longer.
The look Harry directed toward his godfather was more than a little confused and he didn't notice the girls tensing as Sirius' dark eyes remained fixed wholly on him.
"What're you talking about?" Harry asked, his confusion coloring his voice.
"What happened to you, Harry?" Sirius demanded hotly. "There's no way a kid your age gets that kind of damage, not even with the stories you told. You can't have earned that many damn scars!"
With that, Harry felt realization dawning and a shiver ran down his spine; as if someone had just poured a bucket of icy cold water over his head.
"Leave it," he muttered, turning his attention back to his plate. Realizing his bare forearms were fully in view, he had to resist the urge to smack himself upside the head for being an idiot.
"I'm not going to 'leave it'," Sirius snapped, slamming both hands flat on the table and pushing himself to his feet. "I'm not a complete idiot, Harry. I know what those kinds of scars mean. I want to know what happened and who did it."
"Why? So you can go tearing off to get revenge and get yourself thrown in prison again?" Harry snapped, noting how Sirius flinched slightly at the words out of the corner of his eye. His blazing green eyes turned to glare furiously into the man's surprised yet worried grey ones. "It happened. It's done with. I don't want to talk about it."
"Too Merlin-be-damned bad, kid. You're a minor, and I should have been your guardian. I should have been there so this wouldn't have happened to you, and I want to know who did that to you!"
"So it's not about concern for me, it's about your own guilt. You feel bad that you did something stupid and couldn't take care of me. You want something to work out that guilt on. Nothing to do with me, just your own selfish need," Harry practically growled, rising slowly to his feet as the table settings and silverware began to shake and jump on the table. He placed both his hands flat on the table, most of his weight resting on his left arm and leaned toward Sirius.
"You want to know all about it?" he snarled. "You want to hear what happened? That I was tied to a post and whipped bloody? Beaten with fists, feet, and whatever object that could be found at hand? That what you want to hear, Sirius fucking Black? You want to hear about how I lived in my own personal hell because you couldn't get your head out of your ass long enough to think about someone other than yourself?"
Sirius flinched repeatedly as Harry spoke, his complexion growing paler and paler until he slowly sank into his chair; his complexion looking as sallow as a certain Potions Master they were all unfortunately familiar with.
"I just… I wanted to…" Sirius trailed off and Harry snorted derisively.
"You know what suicide is, Sirius? You know what that word means?"
Sirius nodded his head silently.
"Just try to imagine how bad life would have to be for a nine-year-old to want to try to kill himself just to get away from it!" he roared and then fell silent, glaring furiously at the man, his pulse pounding in his ears, chest heaving with every ragged breath, and his face flushed. Slowly he pushed himself back from the table until he was standing completely straight and with a flick of his finger his sleeves grew down to cover his arms to the wrists.
"When you're done eating, Black. I think you should leave," he said in a flat, quiet tone before he turned and started walking toward the back door.
"Harry… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" he started as Harry opened the door.
"Sirius?" the younger man interrupted.
"Yeah?"
"Fuck you." Harry said angrily as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.
A deathly silence filled the room for several minutes before the girls all stood in perfect unison. Sirius flinched at the sudden motion having temporarily forgotten they were even there.
"Bright pink... glow-in-the-dark… Padfoot," Hermione growled out before all three of them followed the raven haired teen out onto the back patio, leaving Sirius alone in the kitchen.
#####
By the time the four bonded returned to the house Sirius was gone and lunch was being prepared. Harry would be forever grateful at how much they'd all grown since their first meeting, and that the girls knew better than to push him. When they'd followed him outside after his blow up at Sirius they'd each simply hugged him carefully, and then set about discussing any random thing that came into their heads, other than what'd happened.
He'd kept his silence for the most part, preferring to work on his Occlumency shields in preparation for returning to school in just a few short weeks. He was well aware that he would likely be meeting with Dumbledore not long after, and wanted to give the old wizard a chance to tell him the prophecy that Director Croaker had helped them collect.
They decided to stay out on the patio to eat their lunch to better enjoy an uncommonly cool breeze that helped drive away the summer heat.
"'All right, Mister," Daphne said once they were each settled at one of the patio tables with a cool drink and a plate in front of them. "I can't be the only one of us that's curious, so spill. When exactly did you learn French?"
Harry blinked in surprise and lowered his bottle of Butterbeer, swallowing before he attempted to answer her question. "Uh… well, before starting at Hogwarts actually. I used to dream of traveling, mostly just as a means to get away from the Dursleys," he explained, his expression darkening briefly before he forcefully shoved his darker thoughts aside. "Sometimes I dreamed about it just because I wanted to see more of the world one day. I'd never even been to London at that point. Since France is so close I started teaching myself French from books, thinking I could go there one day."
"It's too bad mum and dad got roped into that symposium they had to go to," Hermione muttered. "They'd wanted to take all four of us on holiday to Nice this summer, but the timing just didn't work out."
"Maybe next summer we'll be able to do something," Daphne offered thoughtfully, reaching out to pat Hermione's hand in a comforting manner.
A minute later Harry cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat when three pairs of eyes turned toward him. "Speaking of being curious, would one of you like to explain why the three of you were in bed with me this morning?" he asked.
The girls exchanged a look for a moment before returning their attention to him as Susan attempted to explain. "Last night was… it was terrifying, Harry. We learned in first year after the troll just how comforting it can be, sleeping close to each other. After everything that happened yesterday none of us wanted to be very far from you, and we were already sharing my bed anyway, so…." She trailed off and shrugged. "It just seemed easier if we slept in the same bed with you."
That made a certain sense so Harry simply nodded. "I don't mind," he assured them. "I was just surprised when I woke up to find that my bed had gotten pretty crowded."
Nearly identical small smiles appeared on all three girls lips and he couldn't help but smile back. He opened his mouth to speak when the chime for the Floo went off and all four of them turned, looking back toward the house.
"Sirius left already didn't he?" Harry asked the girls who nodded in return, even though he had his back to them.
They waited silently for a few minutes until the back door opened and Amelia stepped out onto the patio.
"Auntie!"
The Head of the DMLE didn't get far before a teen aged blur slammed into her, wrapping her in a crushing hug and she staggered, letting out a grunt at the impact. She smiled fondly, however and wrapped her arms around her niece, leaning down slightly to hug the girl.
"Hey you guys," she said, her voice weary and lethargic. "Everything all right here?"
"Everything's fine here, Amy," Harry told her, moving forward to pry Susan off of her aunt so the woman could sit. With Hermione's help he managed to coax her away while Daphne called for Binky to bring another plate and something to drink for the Lady of the House.
When the food arrived, Amelia set to with a will and the four of them sat in tense silence, letting her eat without peppering her with questions though it was a close thing for Hermione who was particularly eager to start throwing out questions.
Harry took the time to observe his guardian and from what he saw he could only guess that the cleanup had been a far worse experience than the attack itself had been. Her robes were torn, dingy, stained with fluids in several different colors, some of which he really didn't want to even think about. Her hair was a matted disheveled mess and her shoulders were slumped, as if a heavy weight was pressing down on her. All in all he'd never seen the woman in such a sorry state.
"Binky?" he called quietly and the little elf appeared next to him with a soft pop instead of the ear splitting crack that typically accompanied his appearances.
"Yous called, Mister Potter, Sir?" Binky asked in a quiet voice.
"Yes, Binky. Is there any way you can do something to clean Madam Bones up or make her more comfortable? Maybe switch her robes out for her or something, but without interrupting her?"
Binky nodded and snapped his fingers.
A moment later Amelia's Auror robes vanished and were replaced with a soft set of house robes. Much of the grime and dirt vanished from her face and hands and her hair was suddenly much neater and less caked with detritus than it'd been moments before. Amelia paused for a second as she felt the changes occuring, shooting Harry a grateful look and a small smile before returning her attention to her nearly empty plate.
"Thank you, Harry," Amelia said a few minutes later when she finally pushed her empty plate away and leaned back in her seat. "I really should have cleaned up first but it's been a very long night… and half of the day."
"Understandable," he muttered, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table but he winced when the move put pressure on his shoulder and he leaned back in his patio chair instead, frowning at the offending joint as if he could scare it into suddenly healing.
"You know better than that, Harry," Hermione admonished him gently. "I wish you'd put on the sling Madam Pomfrey left you."
"It's nothing I haven't dealt with before and it's not worth the aggravation of not being able to use both my hands."
"I really think that can wait until later you two," Daphne cut in before Hermione could respond. "This isn't really the time to rehash that same argument."
Hermione huffed slightly and crossed her arms over her breasts, glaring at Harry slightly but she didn't voice the comment she wanted to and the four of them turned their attention back to Amelia, who was smiling gently at them.
"That was exactly what I needed, even more than the food," she commented. "A little normalcy after the last few hours does wonders."
"So how much can you tell us?" Harry asked and Amelia let out a long sigh.
"Anyone see the Prophet today?" she asked and the four of them glanced to each other before shaking their heads. A quick call to Binky later and the girls were huddling around Harry's chair where he sat with the Daily Prophet laid out in front of him.
Boy-Who-Lived a Hero! DMLE Facing Inquiry!
The headline screamed at them from the front page in thick, bold text. Beneath it the article spent three paragraphs questioning the security measures, wondering where the Aurors went wrong, and who exactly could they blame for the death toll at the World Cup, all while implying the DMLE must have ultimately been responsible. The next page and a half was spent lauding Harry as the hero that saved hundreds of spectators from the chaos and death unleashed during the unprecedented attack by "rogue dark wizards unknown."
The entire thing was written around two large photos of him. One on the borrowed Firebolt with Daphne sitting behind him, fire spewing from her wand to incinerate one of the inferi, and the second showed the moment when the Siege Engine spell erupted from his 'wand', destroying the fortified wall of the stadium so that the survivors could escape.
"This is ridiculous," he growled, fuming dangerously. "I barely did anything! I spent so much time steering the damn broom that I only actually destroyed a few of those things. You guys did all of the fighting after I took myself out with that stupid spell. I even put us all in more danger by busting a hole in the walls!"
"That's not how the Prophet is spinning it, and unfortunately it's not how most people will see it," Amelia admitted. "There were some security lapses. Turns out at least one or more of the guards from the night before the game were placed under Imperius, to let someone in with the Inferi so they could be hidden around the field and outside the walls. No one knows who brought them in, or where the bodies came from. The World Cup was supposed to be Barty Crouch's project and the entire thing was dropped in our lap after Crouch went missing. Most of the planning and security measures he'd deemed necessary were already in place. The stadium was already more than half built when it came across my desk, and I did the best I could to keep things safe, but we're still going to be blamed for it all."
"How'd they even get these pictures?" Daphne demanded pointing at the article. "I didn't see any cameras there. Did any of you?"
"From what I've been able to figure out, it seems like one of those we rescued was a reporter for the Prophet. They most likely took the photos from Pensieve memories; carefully framed to make Harry look as impressive as possible, of course."
"You're not going to get in any trouble over this whole thing, are you?" Harry asked. "They can't actually launch an inquiry because someone decided to attack the World Cup."
"They can, and they will, but no, I don't think I'm in any real danger," Amelia assured them. "We took all the security precautions that we could, but unfortunately that doesn't mean anything. There's so many ways to get around security and to cause damage with magic that all we can really do is our best, and hope that's enough."
"That is complete bullshit," he growled out and not even Hermione had the heart to admonish him for his language. She was just as incensed as he was.
"It is," Amelia agreed. "But it's unfortunately the way the world works. It's not something anyone will likely be able to change any time in the near future. It's human nature to try to place blame away from themselves. Don't worry, Harry. I'll weather this just like everything else I've dealt with in my career."
While Harry continued to grumble under his breath, Amelia looked around the patio, a mildly confused expression on her face.
"Hang on," she muttered. "I feel like I'm forgetting something…" She trailed off, her brow furrowed in thought for several long moments before she suddenly brightened, snapping her fingers as it came to her. "That's right. Where's Sirius? That dog can't keep quiet for any real length of time, so what room did you guys leave him gagged and hogtied in?"
When her joking question failed to garner the laughs she'd been expecting and Harry muttered a quick, "welcome home, Amy," before heading into the house without another word, she turned her attention to the girls, a questioning look on her face.
"Okay," she said after the door closed behind Harry, "what'd the idiot do?"
#####
By the time September 1st was upon them, the four bonded were more than ready to return to school. After the attack at the World Cup, and the follow up articles in the Daily Prophet, the Boneyard had been inundated by a owls delivering a mix of scathing insults directed at Amelia and the DMLE and praise, requests for interviews, and even a few betrothal offers directed at Harry.
All of the various letters were dealt with in the same direct manner; Harry attached them to the dummies in the backyard and they used them for target practice. Thankfully, any Howlers or cursed post were blocked by the property's wards, so they had a relatively quiet last few weeks.
Neville and Blaise continued to come over nearly every day, though it was mostly just to visit as Harry wasn't physically cleared by Madam Pomfrey to resume his workouts until only a few days were left before they were to catch the Express. The two boys, along with Tracey and Hannah, had joined the four bonded on their annual trip to Diagon Alley in order to buy their school supplies during the last week of August. By the time they'd managed to return home, Harry had been swearing up and down that he was never going to set foot in the Alley again if he could possibly avoid it.
What should have been a simple, and fairly quick, visit had taken the entire day as the group was constantly stopped by people wanting to talk to Harry, shake his hand, thank him, or ask him to endorse products, services, and any possible number of other things that they honestly couldn't hear over the noise of an Alley crowded with students and lookie-loos hoping to catch a glimpse of the ever more famous Boy-Who-Lived.
The inclusion of dress robes for this year had been a surprise to all of the students, but Amelia had seemed to know something about it, based on the look on her face when Hermione had questioned it that morning before they'd left for the Alley. She'd absolutely refused to say anything about it however; no matter how many times they asked her, all she would say was that they would have to wait and see. If things ran true to form, Dumbledore would be making a special announcement during the Welcome Feast.
On the morning of the first, Harry and Susan were packed, dressed, and downstairs eating breakfast before the sun had completely risen. The morning was spent largely in silence as Susan seemed tired and preoccupied, and Harry wasn't entirely certain what to do about it. The weeks since the Cup had been hard on all of them, each plagued by nightmares a few times a week, though poor Susan seemed to be having a worse time of it compared to the others. More than once, he had asked Daphne and Hermione about it but they hadn't been able to tell him anything as Susan had been rather tight lipped over the whole thing, simply saying that she was having bad dreams.
At half past ten o'clock, they shrank their trunks and made their way through the Floo directly to the station with Amelia where they met up with Daphne, Hermione, Blaise, Neville, Tracey, Hannah, and Luna. With such a large group they'd searched out the biggest compartment they could find, it was still something of a tight fit though; to the amusement of most of those present, Luna solved their seating problem by calmly plopping herself onto Neville's lap, just as the train started moving.
The poor boy's face had remained a deep red for most of the trip, and Luna kept her seat as long as she could, citing that she was more than comfortable whenever Neville would politely ask if she wouldn't feel better moving to an actual seat. The rest of them had found the entire situation to be absolutely hilarious, but had carefully kept their amusement to a few snickers at his reaction.
The trip was spent discussing their summers while carefully avoiding any mention of the World Cup, for those who had been there, and the Department of Mysteries for the four bonded. They knew that they would likely tell their friends at some point, but had previously decided that they would keep what they'd learned a secret for as long as possible. There was a lot that needed to be decided first. Such as, were their friends Occlumency shields enough to protect the information? But more importantly was, would Dumbledore be honest with them, or not, and tell them the wording of the prophecy once they were at the school.
If their shields were enough to prevent him from learning that they already knew, and he still failed to tell them… well, they agreed they would have a decision to make after that in regards to the Headmaster, and none of them were entirely certain what the best course of action might be. Distancing themselves from him seemed like the best solution, but Daphne was particularly keen on extracting some form of revenge for what Harry had suffered at the hands of the Dursleys, despite retracting her initial desire to do so when the old man had apologized so profusely for the mistakes he'd made in the past. If he fed them a half truth, or worse, outright lied, about the readiness of their shields, then she had declared the kids gloves would come off.
None of her bond mates had any idea what she intended to do, but the nearly feral grin on her face whenever she spoke of it sent slight shivers of fear down all three of their spines. One thing was for sure, they wouldn't want to be Albus Dumbledore if Daphne decided to make a move against him.
The day passed on and eventually they arrived at Hogsmeade Station, tired but relatively cheerful. They split into two groups and took the carriages up to the castle, and within half an hour of arriving, they were all sitting at their respective House tables, awaiting the Start of Term Feast to begin.
"Head Table is looking a bit crowded, don't you think?" Neville muttered to Harry from across the table as Professor McGonagall started sorting the new students. Harry turned his head to follow his friend's gaze. At the same moment all four of the bonded caught who Neville was indicating and blanched in near perfect unison.
"What is she doing here?" Harry blurted out, clapping absently as a new student was sorted into Hufflepuff.
At the Head Table the Defense Professor's chair was still empty, but at that end of the table, between Professor Flitwick and the empty chair, two recognizable figures sat. Ludo Bagman he would have recognized anywhere; the Head of the Department of Games and Sports was wearing an identical set of his Quidditch styled robes that they'd seen at the World Cup, the giant wasp across his chest was clearly visible even from the distance they were at.
Sitting next to him, smiling at the students in a predatory sort of way, sat a squat pink toad with a black bow in her hair.
"Madam Umbridge apparently has taken over Barty Crouch's duties at the Ministry for now," Susan informed them and they all turned to her for an explanation. "Auntie was talking about it the other day. Remember Crouch was supposed to be involved with the World Cup, but when he disappeared after Sirius' trial, most of his duties got dumped onto the DMLE?"
They nodded.
"Crouch was involved because he was the Head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation; basically a liaison to foreign magical communities and so on. Because the Bulgarian National Team was involved, and there were so many foreign spectators and such, his department was involved. So whatever is going on here this year, I'm pretty certain we can expect visitors from outside the country."
Before any of them could ask anything else, a hush fell over the Hall and they looked up to find that Dumbledore had stood and was signaling for silence.
"To our new students, may I say 'Welcome', and to our returning students, 'Welcome back' to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
He paused as a polite applause swept through the room for a moment.
"Before we get to our wonderful Feast, and our minds become befuddled by too much good food," he said with an exaggerated wink, "I have a few start of term announcements. First, to our new students, the Forbidden Forest on the grounds is, as the name suggests, forbidden to all students. Some of our older students might do well to remember that particular warning as well," he added the last as his eyes swept the Gryffindor table, stopping briefly on the Weasley twins, but also on Harry. All three affected innocent expressions that fooled no one that knew them, and caused a smatter of laughter to sweep through the Hall.
"Our Caretaker, Mister Filch, has informed me that his list of banned items has grown to over 400 strong this year. Anyone who may wish to peruse the list in its entirety, will find it located on the outside of his Office door. He has also asked me to remind students that there is 'absolutely no magic' allowed in the hallways, and violating these rules will result in swift punishment," he continued with a jaunty smile.
No one seemed to have much of any kind of reaction to that, save the new students who looked a bit afraid until some of the older ones leaned in to whisper to them. The majority of them calmed rather quickly after that.
"It is my sad duty to inform you that this year we will not be holding the Inter-House Quidditch Cup-"
He was cut off as a multitude of raised voices suddenly burst out of the crowd of students, nearly every one of them complaining loudly about that piece of news. It took several minutes for the Headmaster to get the silence he needed to continue, though the twinkling in his eyes never wavered, in fact, he looked more amused the longer it went on.
"I am sorry to say that it will just not be possible," he continued, "as this year, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a very special, Ministry sponsored, event beginning in October. It is with pleasure, and a great deal of pride, that I announce the revitalization of the Triwizard Tournament!"
Once again murmurs and conversation broke out. Harry looked around to see shocked expressions on most of the students' faces, though more than a few looked just as confused as he felt. The Weasley twins looked absolutely gobsmacked by the announcement.
"Yes, the Triwizard Tournament has not been held in more than a century, this year however, the Ministry felt the time was ripe to revive it in an attempt to build on our foreign relations. For those of you that are familiar with the event, I apologize and urge you to bear with me for a moment while I enlighten those that are unaware. The Triwizard Tournament began some seven-hundred years ago, and has always been held between the three largest European schools of magic: Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons. Three Champions, one from each school, which are chosen by an impartial judge to compete throughout the year in this historical event's three dangerous and difficult tasks tasks designed to test their courage, ingenuity, and skill.
"The winner will receive eternal glory, the Triwizard Cup, and a thousand galleon prize. Now, there was some opposition amongst certain parties, but this year's Tournament will be a slight departure from those of old. First, there will not be three tasks as has always been the tradition. Instead there will be four since Hogwarts has four houses. The House of the Brave," he nodded toward the Gryffindor table. "The House of the Loyal," he gestured to the Hufflepuffs, "and the Houses of Knowledge and Cunning," he added with a sweeping glance that encompassed the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables.
"Each task will test the Champions. One task to test their bravery and nerve, one task to test their loyalty, one to test their knowledge, and finally a task to test their cunning. As the Tournament was previously abandoned due to the increasing death toll, it has also been decided that there will be an age limit. Only students that are of age, meaning seventeen-years-old at the time of the choosing, may submit their names to be judged for a chance to compete."
Once again the aged wizard had to cut off as the crowd of students started protesting, some louder than others as Ron Weasley bellowed about how unfair that decision was.
A moment later they all fell silent, as a loud rumbling peel of thunder shook the air outside the castle, and the doors to the Great Hall suddenly banged open. Several students nearest the doors screamed in fright, and Harry, Hermione, Daphne, Neville, and Blaise all leaped to their feet, wands in their hands, as they turned to face the cloaked figure now standing in the doorway. A few seconds later Susan joined them, her wand hand trembling slightly but aimed determinedly toward the figure.
Two scarred and gnarled looking hands lifted and threw back the hood on the figure's cloak, revealing a face that had several more students shrieking in fright and the man sneered at them, twisting his scarred visage into an even more terrifying mask for a moment before he started forward. There appeared to be a large chunk missing from the man's nose, and his left eye was small, dark and beady, while his right eye was large, a bright electric blue, and was spinning wildly in his head, moving left and right, up and down, completely independently of his other eye, as Harry watched it roll upward and keep going, spinning completely around to point into the back of his head. There was a dull clunk with every other step as he advanced through the Hall limping heavily, favoring his left leg as he walked.
"You," he called out in a gravelly voice, stopping between the tables to point to Blaise at the Slytherin table. "You, you, you, you, and… you,," he added, pointing to the five friends at the Gryffindor table, he paused, glancing up to the Head Table, "Am I allowed to award points yet, Albus?" he called out and the Headmaster nodded, grinning broadly behind his beard.
"Ten points to Slytherin, and ten points for each of you Gryffindors, for your quick reaction. Never know, I could've been a lunatic dark wizard looking to attack you lot. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He bellowed out the last two words so loudly that half the Hall jumped. He gave the six standing students an approving nod before he continued to make his way up to the Head Table, where he greeted Dumbledore in a friendly but stiff manor, his gaze constantly sweeping the Hall, the two of them exchanging a few quiet words.
Finally, the man took the empty seat set aside for the Defense Professor. He picked up a plate of sausages, examining them suspiciously for a moment, then he pulled a large knife from his pocket and speared one of them, eating slowly all the while his bright blue eye continued to scan the room.
"Professor Moody, or rather Retired Master Auror Moody, has consented to be our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor this year," Dumbledore explained once Harry and the others had returned to their seats, and the rest of the students appeared to have calmed down.
"Just a few more details to explain before we go about filling our bellies, as I'm sure you are all quite hungry after your long day," the Headmaster continued his interrupted explanation. "As I said, only of age students may enter the tournament, this is for the safety of all involved. With the foreknowledge that losing Quidditch this year would be an issue, especially as only one student from our School may compete, it was decided that we will be holding other events throughout the year as well, allowing anyone that may wish to enter, if they so desire, to do so. These additional events will include a Dueling Tournament," he paused to let the cheering subside somewhat, "as well as an Inter-School Quidditch Tournament." The chaos that caused took a bit longer to subside before he could continue. "We will be forming a single team, from all four Houses, to compete against teams fielded by Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. I look forward to seeing how superbly our Hogwarts students will fare against our foreign friends."
Harry started to tune the man out as he went on to explain a few more details of how the events were going to work, and that further information would be made available in the coming weeks.
An extremely dangerous event was coming to Hogwarts starting in October, Harry frowned, thinking over the whole thing, a growing feeling of dread swelling in the pit of his stomach. Moments later, the platters on the tables filled and conversation rose steadily around them as people filled their plates, and nearly everyone was talking about the upcoming Tournament, and the extra events set to take place as well, in excited tones.
"Anyone want to bet that something terrible is going to happen when the Champions are chosen?" he suddenly asked as he placed chicken and potatoes, that he didn't feel like eating anymore, onto his plate, before then reaching for a pitcher of pumpkin juice.
No one answered as he poured and after setting the pitcher down he looked up, taking in the bemused expressions on his bond mates' and friend's faces.
"Oh come on," he said. "A deadly tournament set to start in October? I'd lay that thousand galleon prize that the Champions are going to be chosen on Halloween, and we know how good Halloween has been to me over the years," he muttered, lowering his eyes to his plate.
Again, no one said anything, but they slowly resumed eating and eventually conversation picked up again as Neville asked Hermione what she might know about the Tournament, hoping to get some extra information. Once again, Harry tuned out most of what was going on around him, focusing his thoughts and his, seemingly flavorless, dinner. The main Tournament sounded like it could be entertaining to watch, and the Dueling Tournament and the Quidditch matches certainly sounded promising as well; he'd love to try out for the School Quidditch Team if at all possible.
Somehow though, he couldn't shake the lump of ice in his chest that told him this was going to be the most dangerous year he'd experienced yet. He was probably the only person in the school that really wasn't looking forward to this whole thing.
Just keep your head down, he thought some time later when he was lying in his bed in the dorm, waiting for sleep to claim him. Keep your head down, focus on classes and the girls and you'll stay out of trouble this year. There's no mysteries. No escaped convicts. No hidden treasures waiting to be stolen. Keep your head down, and for once you're going to have a quiet, calm year.
He rolled over onto his side, and just before he fell asleep one last thought flitted across his mind.
Yeah… I don't really believe that for a minute either.
