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Stand Tall

Chapter IX

Fallout


Time seemed to move at a slower rate as Harry shuffled, bemused from the Great Hall to the champion's antechamber. He barely noticed the questions from Madame Maxine and Karkaroff, barely noticed the ferocious whispers that erupted at the same time as his name did. All he could see in his mind's eye was the hurt written all over Ron's face. All he could think about was the worry deep in the back of his mind that with their friendship already strained, it might not survive Ron believing he had put his name in the Goblet without him.

"Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?"

Dumbledore's voice shook him from his thoughts and brought him to the present with a start. Suddenly, Harry felt the stares of the other champions and the three headmasters - the foreign contingent seething. McGonagall too was there, expression unreadable and Snape was no longer bothering to hold back his contempt for Harry.

"Of course he did Headmaster," the Potions professor spoke quietly, but Harry could hear the bitter frost regardless. "I see that you have found yet another way to display your utter contempt for any kind of authority, Potter."

Harry felt himself flush heavily, heat burning at his cheeks indignantly, but a look from Dumbledore both stopped Snape cold, and eased Harry's rising temper.

He was close to losing his cool he knew. Ron's face, being dragged into this situation against his will and Snape's bullshit were all pushing him towards a tipping point where he might do or say something he wouldn't be able to take back. He couldn't let Maxine and Karkaroff see him blow his top like a child. He wouldn't.

"The question if you will, Harry."

He clenched his fists tightly, "I didn't put my name in Professor Dumbledore, I don't want to be anywhere near this tournament." Snape scoffed, but Dumbledore merely stared straight into his eyes, the man's own oddly absent of their usual twinkle. Now, they were a stormy blue and seemed to swirl and shift oddly, the subtle movement of colour only visible when Harry wasn't trying to see it.

Dumbledore stood up straight and tucked his wispy beard back into his leather belt absently.

"Indeed you didn't - and yet you must compete nonetheless."

His proclamation began another explosive round of protestations and accusations both at him and Dumbledore now, and Harry felt his hackles rise again until McGonagall placed a hand softly on his shoulder and glanced down at him out of the corner of her eye. Her face held no hint of a smile, only her usual implacable sternness, but Harry felt warmth surge through him nonetheless.

Suddenly, the room was cast into silence as Mad-Eye Moody burst through the doors and limped into the room, his fake eye swiveling this way and that, only amplifying the man's unsettling aura.

"Imagine the Headmasters of the three most prestigious schools bickering like leprachauns with only a single knut between 'em. Makes you wonder how seriously you should take their words, eh lad? He regarded Harry with a scar-filled grin that looked quite alien on that face before rounding once again on the others in the room.

"Are all of you so addled with age that you reckon a boy barely into his fourth year could crack the defenses myself and Albus bloody Dumbledore cast to prevent just such a thing? If the age-line was the only trick in our repertoire, maybe but..." His grin grew shark-like. "They don't call me paranoid for no reason now."

Moody took a quick sip from his flask, wincing at the taste of whatever spirit he had in there and it was then that Harry noticed Madame Maxine gesticulating furiously. Has he silenced them? Is he insane?!

"A much better question is why would somebody put The-Boy-Who-Lived's name in the Goblet of Fire? It can only have been an adult to cast a confundus that powerful - so what's the motive?"

"Well put Alastor." Dumbledore added gravely, the silencing spell surreptitiously broken by the older wizard. "It is clear that, though their motives are unclear, somebody has entered Harry Potter in the competition against his will, which presents us with a problem." Now Dumbledore's eyes were apologetic as he turned to Harry himself.

"The magic that rules the Goblet is centuries old. One's name being drawn represents a binding magical contract, forcing one to compete or else potentially lose one's magic. Whether he wanted this or not, Harry has very little choice but to enter the Triwizard Tournament."

"Is there truly nothing that can be done?" Madame Maxine's thick French accent questioned begrudgingly. At Dumbledore's shake of the head, she sighed heavily. "Then I must stipulate that a victory for Harry Potter must not stipulate a victory for Hogwarts, to prevent the unfair advantage of one school having a second competitor."

"Agreed." Karkaroff cut in, his expression and tone giving away his anger at this turn of events. "Or else Durmstrang and Beauxbaton should be able to enter a second competitor to match that of Hogwarts."

This sparked another round of heated debate among the adults and Harry found himself inching away from the discussion to prevent him from being drawn in to it again. The other competitors had also kept themselves out of it, but now Harry was closer to being with them he could catch a glimpse of the trio. Cedric looked somewhere between hurt and angry, and Harry felt his heart sink even further. Diggory was one of the more reasonable members of the school population, and his house was generally pretty amicable with Harry to boot. If Cedric was angry, his house would be even moreso - God only knew what the rest of the school would be like.

Krum looked largely indifferent as he chatted with Fleur Delacour, but as soon as he caught Harry looking he gave him a measuring look before turning back to the French witch. Fleur on the other hand was the very picture of passionate anger, arms gesturing and voice hissing low.

"...And now they expect us to compete against this little boy! It's an outrage... Utterly ridiculous!" 'Little boy' had been hissed with particular aggression and accompanied by a violent gesture at him, and Harry felt his fists clench again.

He moved across to Cedric cautiously. "Look Cedric, I didn't put my name in the Goblet - I don't want to compete - especially if it means taking something away from you I-"

"Sure, Harry." Cedric interrupted tightly, barely even looking at him as he spoke. "I believe you - especially if Dumbledore does - it's just... This is hard to take right now, okay? Can you just- Please can we not talk right now, Harry? Please?"

Harry simply nodded and moved away, finding a space along the back wall to stand, angry and alone as the adults decided how the tournament Harry wanted no part of was to proceed.


Two Days Later

Hermione walked briskly through shadowy corridors, senses constantly straining for any sign of patrol or teacher this close to out of hours. However much she tried to focus on her surroundings though, her attention kept wandering inwards to the events of the past several days.

Hogwarts, both predictably and pathetically in Hermione's opinion, had jumped to attack Harry in a laughably childish way. Where he wasn't meant with being ignored and ostracized, he was met with open disdain. The Hufflepuff's were particularly bad, and seemed to have utterly disregarded their house's supposed predilection for loyalty.

What Hermione hadn't anticipated was Ron Weasley's reaction, though in hindsight perhaps she should have. Harry had returned from the choosing ceremony to looking, tired, resigned and utterly furious all at once but Ron had been seething. She had thought it obvious that Harry hadn't put his own name in the Goblet - especially without having told them. Ron though, perhaps fueled by their ongoing disagreement was convinced otherwise, and was understandably devastated at the perceived betrayal.

Of course, he was barking so far up the wrong tree Hermione thought he was probably in an entirely different forest.

That was neither here nor there though, as when Harry arrived, it took only a few scathing comments from his best friend before he lost the tight grip he had obviously been keeping on his emotions until then. If Hermione wasn't so hurt by the division that had resulted between her only two real friends, she would have agreed with Lavender that the resultant argument between the two was epic.

Needless to say, both had said some less than pleasant things and had gone too far. In the end, it was a scathing reprimand from Alicia Spinnet of all people that had both heading to bed without things devolving further. The damage had been done though, and now the two weren't speaking with Hermione painfully being caught between the two.

Ron was clearly in the wrong about Harry, and likewise Harry had responded in a manner that meant he shared the blame with the Weasley but neither were willing to budge. Now, Hermione had to choose which friend to spend her time with and try and balance the emotions of both.

That said, the treatment of Harry by the school was beyond the pale and Harry needed his friends more than ever. That Ron was part of the problem she suspected hurt Harry more than he'd ever let on. She ducked quietly into a darkened classroom - charms, she thought - as a pair Hufflepuff prefects ambled past, wands lit by the lumos spell. No comment had been made to students, but it was clear that patrols around the school at night had increased since Daisy Betteridge had been attacked.

The girl had been just fine after a night with Madame Pomfrey - she had apparently been found quick enough that whatever spell had been cast was counterable with few side-effects. Still she thought, as she finally arrived at tonight's chosen destination, with everything going on with the Tournament, Luna and even Voldemort, it's jut one more thing to worry about this year.

Hermione opened the door carefully, not wanting to make any more noise than she had to before she had cast her silencing charms, and entered. Harry and Neville were talking quietly, and Hermione shot them a bright smile, which only faltered slightly when she realised that Ron wasn't with them. Harry smiled back though, only slightly forced, and the pair got to work charming the room to try and avoid detection whilst Neville watched and asked the occasional question about the magic they were using.

Finally, Harry pinned the Marauders Map on the wall just as Zabini arrived, nodded respectfully to the room and sat down to wait for their practice to start. The Map had been Harry's contribution to the protection on the room a few sessions ago. It was a rather brilliant idea and already had they managed to leave prior to an interruption from a patrolling Filch because Neville had seen him coming whilst practicing his disarming charm.

Before long, spells were flying. Harry, much like an actual teacher had broken down the room based on what they needed to work on. Hermione and Harry were practicing the shield charm, Blaise Zabini his disarming charm and Neville was working on a small list of offensive curses now that his disarming charm could take Harry's wand. Admittedly, Harry needed to let Neville hit him for that to ever happen but these things took time.

After about half an hour of proper work, for perhaps the first time since he had arrived, Blaise Zabini's voice cut across the noise of their spellwork. "Snape is coming."

Hermione felt anxiety grip her, it was too soon for them to be stopped in this - it was doing them too much good.

"How much time do we have, Blaise?" Harry was striding across the room, expression grim but determined.

"Less than two minutes. I saw him leave his office and decided to keep an eye." Zabini looked Harry dead in the eyes, dark and serious. "Potter, he's carved a path straight for us. He knew we would be here."

Hermione recognised the look that came across Harry's face at that - she likely wore it too. Despite their disagreement, despite their anger at each other - she had convinced Harry to carry on inviting Ron, this was after all, too important to stop.

He was the only one who knew where they would be. And he had chosen the absolute worst person to tell.

Harry managed to push back whatever he was feeling before she did. "Looks as though he's choosing a route that will cut us off from Gryffindor Tower if we try and go there directly." He forced a grin. "Lucky for us we've done this kind of thing before. Hermione, kill the wards with me; Blaise and Neville, you sort the room - leave no proof that someone was here."

They were in motion, hurriedly moving tables and dispelling the various wards and charms in the room before Harry ushered them into the corridors, eyes scanning the Marauders Map furiously.

"Prefect patrols cut us off from the Tower no matter which way we go right now, and there's too many of us to use the cloak." Blaise twitched in surprise at that, but made no efforts to make comment as Harry continued. "For now we head to the east tower and cut round to the dungeons first before Snape gets back - that way Blaise doesn't get cut off. Then we'll use the cloak and map from there to dodge the good Professor and whoever else might be in our way - got it?" They nodded, but Harry was already looking to the opposite end of the corrider, where a lamplight had started to glow from around the corner.

"Move!" He hissed, and they ran quietly into the darkened halls as far and as quickly away from Professor Snape as they could manage.


Harry scowled as a scrunched up piece of paper collided with the back of his head for the second time. A group of third year Hufflepuff's had taken umbrage to his presence in the library. Hogwarts as a whole it seemed took umbrage with it since his name had come out of the Goblet. Only the closest to him believed his side of the story, and even then Ron thought he had lied.

The school's disdain he could have coped with - he had done before after all - but Ron abandoning him coupled with his going to Snape about their defense practices sent a hot wave of fresh anger every time he thought about it. He understood Ron's hurt and why he hadn't reacted well to Harry being in the Triwizard Tournament, he understood that he himself had reacted badly in turn. He was, even now, sorry for what he had said in the Tower that evening.

But the idea that Ron could betray them all over it, to Snape of all people, was near enough irredeemable in his eyes.

As though the thought of him and been a summoning charm, Ron strode into the Library laughing all too loudly, Dean and Seamus in tow. The 'Puffs seemed to sense oncoming drama and suddenly their snide comments whispered just loudly enough that he knew he was supposed to have heard them died down. Ron swept the room for somewhere to sit, and his eyes found Harry's and his expression slipped straight from near laughter to ugly scowl.

"Harry." Ron grunted, and Harry felt his hackles rise, but before he could reply Ron raised his voice loud enough for the nearby Hufflepuffs to hear. "Head got too big for even Hermione and Neville to bear it anymore."

Harry ground his teeth through the laughter of everyone that had heard, and cut straight to what was really making him seethe. The jibe cut, largely because it had come from somebody he had considered like family, but the betrayal was what had really hurt.

"Of all the low things you could have done Ron, you filched on us to Snape?!" He hissed, causing Ron's ears to grow a hot red.

"You have a Slytherin going to your stupid practices and you think I went to Snape? Are you mental?" Ron half shouted, drawing the hawk-like attention of Pince from behind her mahogany desk.

"Blaise was the only reason we made it out with any warning, he saw Snape com-"

"Only because he bloody well knew he'd be coming you mor-"

"Out of my library this instant!" Pince's shriek tore through their argument like old parchment, and she marched the four of them out without so much as a chance to speak or explain themselves. "That will be 20 points from Gryffindor - if I hear any more arguing, that will be double." She hissed, and marched right back to the library without a further word.

Dean looked uncomfortable, but Seamus managed to grind out a "Nice one, Potter." Before half dragging Ron away from continuing their argument.

Harry was left standing there, seething with anger without any release for it and face reddened, as the whispers of the students in the corridor echoed like thunder in his ears.


It was clear and bright outside but cold enough that most were kept indoors when Saturday came. Harry, Hermione and Neville though had opted for the colder temperatures over the colder atmosphere inside. In actuality, things weren't as bad as Harry had feared initially. He was given short shrift from most outside of Gryffindor but Harry had feared that his and Ron's disagreement would have the same effect within the House. By and large though, those that had been acquainted with Harry stood by him. Neville had become a firm friend - particularly in Ron's absence, and his Quidditch team mates had formed a core of support that seemed to have kept him in the favour of the majority of the house.

Of course, Ron was firmly against him and he and Seamus had buddied up remarkably quickly, to the point where Harry couldn't help but wonder if he had offended Seamus without realising at some point. Poor Dean seemed most troubled by this development. He seemed to believe Harry but his best friend being Seamus meant that he was never likely to openly have his back. Harry understood. They were friendly enough with each other, but never seemed to cross that boundary to actually being friends. Whether it was the right thing to do or not, he could hardly expect Dean to cast aside his strongest friendship for him.

Either way, a walk outside in the grounds seemed to be a perfect way to clear his head. There was more freedom out here, he felt as though he could go where and as far as he liked. The forbidden forest called to the part of him that craved adventure and excitement, and the Quidditch pitch would forever be associated with the unadulterated joy that was flying. He and his two friends chatted quietly as they strolled about a whole range of unimportant topic - homework, the coming Hogsmeade visit and any other easy-going distraction from the stress of the castle they could find.

Hagrid's hut lay on the distance, thick grey fire-smoke drifting lazily from the chimney into the crisp air and Harry considered suggesting a visit when Hermione gave him a nudge.

"Look over there, it's Luna and Ginny."

Harry followed Hermione's pointing finger and spotted them sat down underneath a tree, sprawled across a ruby tartan picnic blanket. Without thinking, he started to make a beeline for the pair, who looked up as they drew close.

"Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom - take a seat. Care for some tea?" Luna wafted her arm to their picnic blanket, on top of which sat some un-eaten snacks obviously kept from the lunch trolley on the train, and a hideous blue floral tea set that Harry was positive his Aunt Petunia would have loved.

He was immediately thrown off-kilter by how straightforward Luna seemed, yet not at all really 'present' in the conversation. Haltingly he sat and offered a shaky, "Sure Luna."

The others sat with him and Luna smiled primly, taking the teapot and pouring him a cup - only, nothing at all came out.

"Erm, Luna-"

"Tea is just the thing for this kind of weather, don't you think Harry? Warms the blood." She turned to each of the three of them in turn and with the utmost care poured them a cup of air. "We were just having a bit of a cheer-up picnic you see." She glanced at Ginny. "Oh Ginny, you should have said that the nargles had drunk yours." Ginny gave Luna a soft, grateful smile and took her imaginary tea in both hands as though it was actually warming her.

Hermione looked as though she was bursting to speak, and Harry shot her a warning glance before looking at Neville, who was quietly thanking Luna for his tea. Affection and respect for the Longbottom surged through him and he immediately felt ashamed when the thought of Ron wouldn't have had the courage to do that drifted through his mind. He didn't have much experience in having friends besides Ron and Hermione, but he knew making comparisons like that wasn't fair on either Ron or Neville.

He turned his attention back to the two girls they had joined. Something he knew wasn't right here. Ginny had barely spoken a word, and besides their uncomfortable first meeting and her crush on him, he knew that was fully out of character. She looked tired he realised, dark rings were under her eyes and her expression was tightly drawn like it was a fight simply to stay sitting upright. Something about the definition of her cheekbones made Harry wonder if she had been eating properly, though he couldn't say what had made him think it.

She didn't look well in the slightest, and with Luna now occupying the attentions of Neville and Hermione, Harry took the opportunity presented to him.

"Ginny, is everything okay?" She smiled at him, and was about to answer when Harry stopped her. Enough people had asked him if he was okay when he wasn't all too eager to be honest that he knew when he was about to be placated. He knew a fake smile when he saw one too. "It's just that I was in the Chamber too, Ginny - I still have nightmares about it even now. I feel guilty enough over not helping you before we wound up down there. I'd hate to not have helped when I could have if something's bothering you now."

Ginny's eyes had widened when he mentioned nightmares and he knew he was on the mark. "You have nightmares about it too?" She whispered, aghast.

He nodded. "Yeah. The snake, Riddle even the bloody chamber itself. I'd probably be a little bit worried if that whole thing didn't give me nightmares to be honest. You want to talk about it? I could tell you about mine first?" He asked the question as gently as he could, keen for her to accept his offer.

She looked at him for a moment, as though seeing him for the first time but just as Harry's hopes of being able to help were rising, her face clouded over suddenly as though a particularly nasty thought had just come to her.

"Why are you so interested?" She started sadly, before frowning. "You never cared before."

Harry's mouth dropped in surprise, but before he could even try and process what she had just said, Ginny seemed to snap herself out of whatever had come over her.

"I'm so sorry, that was so uncalled for!" She rushed out, horrified. "You were just being nice, and I was so rude... It's just with all the nightmares, I've not had much sleep and can't seem to stop..." Ginny shook herself and offered Harry a tired smile. "Your offer was really kind Harry, if it gets bad, I might just take you up on it."

Harry smiled back, mollified. "Don't worry about it Ginny, you of all people know I couldn't judge anybody for losing their temper - especially when your brother is involved."

"In your defense Harry, my brother can be an absolute prat."

They both laughed at the truth in that, and their conversation turned to lighter topics, the youngest Weasley considerably brighter than before. It was an hour before they left and as they did so, Luna managed to catch his eye, dreamy smile replaced for only a moment by gratitude.

As the trio walked back to the castle to warm up though, the mood of Neville and Hermione darkened. At Harry's questioning look, Neville shrugged his shoulders.

"Luna's had more of her stuff taken. All her socks, a few robes - a necklace." Neville was unmistakably angry, an emotion Harry had never really associated with the shy boy before and not for the first time he saw a glimpse of Neville's quiet strength. "It was a present from her mother - she... She died, Harry."

And just like that, Harry shared his anger and understood it, and also felt the kinship he shared with Luna Lovegood soar though she would never know it. They had all lost, the three of them and were all victims of loneliness and of the cowardice of others.

Hot blood coursed through his veins as he tried to suppress his mounting fury. "We'll get them back for this Neville, whoever it is that is doing this to her, we'll get them back." He ignored Hermione's sharp look of concern in favour of Neville's firm nod, his face full to the brim with his own righteous anger.

It was a quality Neville had had within him from the start - like Harry, he could never turn himself away from what he felt was right, no matter his own feelings - and once more Harry had to fight the urge to compare him to Ron, who in his opinion had done just that.


Cho Chang couldn't resist the slight smirk as she stuffed the cork and string atrocity behind a sleepily grumbling portrait and attached it to the wall with a sticking charm. She had always been a dab hand at Runes, and her research had led her down roads not strictly endorsed by the Hogwarts curriculum. Not dangerous of course, but definitely unpleasant. And, depending on the victim, definitely hilarious.

She wasn't sure at what point her dislike of Luna Lovegood had become this, and she most certainly had never behaved this way in the past with anybody else. Something about the girl infuriated her though, and despite her insisting it was because she didn't fit in or that she was a little strange, Cho had never quite been able to put her finger on just what it was that had begun Ravenclaw house's campaign of misery against Luna.

Loony, since the end of their last year, just seemed to make her angry.

Small revenges such as these were the kindest of suggestions when they discussed what to do about the girl, but they all knew that no matter how much they wanted her gone, small revenges were the most that they could do without risking grave punishments. And so the hid her things, teased her and ignored her in the same breath and all the while the cow just walked around with that hideous vacant smile.

A scuffle from behind made her jerk around, leaving the rune for a vomiting trap half-carved. She strained her eyes to see in the gloomy corridor so close to the cold of the junction, but all see saw was unmoving darkness so she turned back to her work. Whoever tried to move the painting would vomit heavily until someone applied the counter - a very tricky thing to do for a third year whilst wretching - and break out in itchy spots and rashes in waves over the course of several weeks. The rashes would fade of course, but as far as she knew there was no counter, so Loony would just have to put up with it until they did.

She had just about finished her carving when a tap on her shoulder almost made her jump cleanly out of her own skin. She span to face the person and her eyes widened in shock as she caught only a glimpse of ethereal glittering silver.

That sparkling silver glow was the only thing that she could still see, even as the darkness took her.