Chapter -2

Harry didn't know if he was lucky or not to have dragons as their first task of the Triwizard Tournament. For one part, he had been informed of it beforehand by Ron whose elder brother Charlie was among the tamers who had transported four dragons from Romania. For the other though, Harry had got the Hungarian Horntail, supposedly the most dangerous of all dragon breeds. He was congratulated afterwards and gained a high score for his clever maneuvers with summoning a broom and distracting the dragon. While the crowd on the stands was cheering Harry thought with uneasiness that he finally had run out of his usual dumb luck and next time would be undoubtedly eaten by something as charming as the Hungarian Horntail. The organizers of that Tournament were bloody insane. And Harry, of all people, had the right to complain as he had entered all this mess unwillingly and had no family to fight for him over the silly rules stating that you could quit the Tournament only by winning it or being prematurely brought out in feet first (as he interpreted to himself).

If the Dursleys knew he had avoided the wrath of the overgrown lizard, they certainly would demand to replay the encounter as many times as necessary to rid of their burden for good. Fortunately, the school didn't keep his relatives up to date on his behalf and they, for their part, didn't subscribe to any magical newspapers.

While the hostility of the student body towards Harry had somewhat reduced the boy could still feel the resentment of others for he had got more points from the judges than Cedric. Though none of them could tell now that the judges had favoured him as his performance had been indeed brilliant what the Creevey brothers didn't fail to relentlessly repeat.

Sirius was of the same opinion in his letter to Harry. He expressed his regret that he hadn't been there to see his godson's moment of glory adding to that that James would have been proud of him if he lived to witness his son's victory. And though these words pleased him Harry simultaneously felt a flicker of disappointment. He wanted Sirius to be angry on his behalf, to bellow at the organizers for their insistence that a minor untrained student had to participate in dangerous Tournament without any means of exiting it. What would Sirius think of him if he knew the son of his fearless best friend was having knots in his stomach at the mere thought of the following task?

No, Harry would never admit his weakness to him. They had already had an argument on this matter. Harry's concern that his godfather might be exposed if he recklessly went to Hogsmeade to wish Harry good luck in person hadn't been received very heartily in their secret conversation through the floo of Gryffindor's common room in the dead of night. Though Sirius reluctantly promised him not to take unnecessary risk, his voice was grumpy. Before his head disappeared from the hearth he muttered almost to himself that Harry was less like his father than Sirius had previously assumed. Harry heard him perfectly. Well, it hurt.

Harry always was looking forward to hearing from his godfather but this time he couldn't find it in himself to feel thrilled. It seemed to him that his own father and a closest man to a father figure could be pleased with him only if he blindly rushed into the embrace of danger. And he did a lot of it during his previous years at Hogwarts but not of boredom. If anything, he would be grateful not to have to endure close proximity with evil dark wizards who were after his blood and monstrous creatures whose pleasure would be to dig their venomous fangs in his flesh or to suck his soul. He had already had enough of it all, thank you very much.

He wondered what his mum might have had to say about the situation. Would she have gone the same line as Sirius or would she have been scared of the perspective of him being hurt? Oh, how Harry wanted her here to hug him and say that everything would be alright. And if Harry didn't believe her, her soothing words still would have been enough to lift some pressure off his chest. In her embrace he wouldn't need to act all stoic and careless. It was one of his dreams that would never come true not matter what. Harry wanted to know more about his mum but dreaded to in the same measure. What if the colour of their eyes was the only thing they had in common. He would have given anything to gain information about her.

Sirius's letter was crumpled and thrown into Harry's trunk.

Harry would have liked to take a break and just to spent time with his friends between the classes and enormous amount of homework, but he could not. The Golden egg – the trophy from the first task – constantly mocked him from its place atop Harry's nightstand. Not he, not even Hermione, much to her great frustration, didn't have a clue how to make it useful for the upcoming second task. The sodding thing just screeched at them every time they opened it in a hope to gain a different result.

If it only were the only problem ahead of them, but no, in addition to that they now had to deal with something more horrendous than even the infamous Triwizard Tournament. On the 25 of December, on Professor McGonagall's announcement, the Yule Ball would be held within the walls of Hogwarts. The Gryffindor Head of House sternly called for careful consideration of the preparation for dancing. That remark, unfortunately to Harry, was especially related to him as the Tournament champions were to open the Ball.

Harry was terrified of the prospect. Surely, he was talented and graceful in the air on his broom but he had no idea what to do with his body on the ground with only a few inches between him and a girl. It would be a disaster as he was certainly going to make a fool of himself and right in front of everybody. If he, of course, would be lucky enough to manage to ask a girl to go with him, that's it. Thinking of this Harry decided that he would better have spent the evening in the presence of the Hungarian Horntail as it definitely wouldn't have been necessary to coax the dragon in it. The creature would have been keen on trying to take a piece of him one more time.

With the whole Yule Ball thing the inquiry of having dress robes this year now made sense. Ron was terrified even more than Harry was. The redhead's dress robes were really something to hysterically laugh about, not that Harry did it not wanting to aggravate his mate. It was a horrendous looking piece of maroon velvet with lace on the collar and cuffs. Ron cut the lace off but it didn't improve the appearance much. So all in all, both boys didn't look forward to Christmas this year.

During Occlumency lessons Snape relentlessly cracked snide remarks. "Poor Potter can't live his mundane life without being trampled by the crowd of admirers each eager to obtain the boy-who-lived in their undivided possession for the evening. I would advise you to use tickets for better management. I believe that the resulting line will be able to circumnavigate the castle twice or – on better thought – even thrice". And each time his Professor opened his mouth Harry couldn't help but lost his temper what in its turn provided the man with an easy entrance to his boiling mind. Fortunately, Snape wasn't yet able to grab hold of Harry's most dark memories. The boy didn't know how it was that but didn't hurry to dwell on that fact much. Whatever he did to hide them definitely worked so who he was to complain.

But nevertheless, these lessons remained the worst part of his time at Hogwarts. He felt as if his mind was ripped apart leaving him with the shreds to deal with. He was exposed, vulnerable and defenseless. The only differences between this and his Uncle Vernon's beatings were that instead of being physical on him Snape, as it seemed, was inclined to make him insane and instead of meekly receiving his punishments Harry tried to resist his Professor, he really did, but all in vain.

Harry desperately wanted to get the ball rolling but to his shame he found that it was due to seek his Professor's approval. It was not about just blocking weird dreams any more. Something similar he felt when Professor Lupin had been teaching him to cast Patronus. But Lupin had been a lot nicer to him and was friends with his dad. Comparing the two of them was just ridiculous, but still something was nudging at him. And after days and days of mulling it over in his head Harry discovered the truth.

Yes, Lupin was pleasant and kind but he had one huge disadvantage in the Gryffindor's eyes. Lupin wasn't there. Not now after acquainting with him, not before when Harry was in dire need of someone to care if he was still alive or not. And Lupin hadn't written him a single letter since his departure from Hogwarts. But Snape on the contrary was there teaching him (if it could be called that, of course) despite his dislike of him. Harry knew it was a bad reasoning but he couldn't stop thinking how their relationship might have changed if the Professor could finally see just Harry in front of him and not the son of his school rival. Harry had never bothered before to turn others' opinion of him because he knew that it was a waste of time. The Dursleys were good liars after all and his own words had never been taken into account. But now Harry wanted to try even if the idea seemed totally crazy.

But by the end of December the boy had dropped any efforts completely. He had tried to be respectful to Snape. He had held his tongue most of the times not giving in to the man's mockery that since that blasted Occlumency lessons began had become even more unbearable than usual. Several times he had shocked his classmates nearly into oblivion by raising his hand at the Professor's question which usually only Hermione or Malfoy, for that matter, knew the answer to. None of it worked though. Snape continued to be his usual bastard self. If life had taught Harry anything, it was that you couldn't make somebody, who had already decided to hate you, like you.

Nevertheless, something had shifted in Harry and now he couldn't pretend that Snape's hatred of him didn't affect him in a way the boy didn't have any desire to think of. Never mind how hard he tried to throw that annoying feeling right out of his heart it went on making his throat uncomfortably tighten. And it occurred mostly then when Harry was used to behave defiantly.

Now and then Hermione would throw worried glances towards him and try to fish out what was bothering him. The usual answer for all her investigations was just an annoyed "Fine". Harry saw that his shortness with her was hurting his friend and while he was feeling guilty, he couldn't help but carry on with his attitude. Ron, on the other hand, was angry and didn't miss the opportunity to badmouth the Dungeons Bat which Harry didn't like either. For some reason he couldn't find the fire to throw out profanities to Snape's direction any more.

And Harry was really frustrated with himself for not hating the man to the degree the git deserved.

"Hey mate, are you ok?" Harry made a show of feeling Ron's forehead. Then his palm touched the skin, Harry instantly pulled his hand away and theatrically hissed "Ouch! You're burning! We need to get you to the Hospital wing immediately!"

Ron only smiled feebly and continued to push his food around the plate. Still full plate! And in Harry's opinion it was the sinister omen looming above them. Because upset or not, Ron never lost his appetite. The reason behind the redhead's downcast mood was pretty obvious. And now that reason was excitingly chatting with Ginny a few seats away from them, downright tired of Harry's and Ron's grumpy behavior these past days.

Recently Ginny had provided them with a piece of shocking (for Ron anyway) information that there were rumors about the Durmstrang's champion wanting to endeavour to ask Hermione to go to the Ball with him. It hadn't even occurred yet but the female part of the student body was already pretty jealous.

When Ron stole another displeased glance at their bushy-haired friend Harry finally decided that he had had enough. He nudged him in the side and conspiratorially whispered in his ear, "Look, Ron, you ought to get hold of yourself and ask her to go to the Ball with you or you will never forgive yourself for not even trying once".

"I'm not a match to Krum, you know". Ron's shoulders slumped even more and Harry felt sorry for him as it was apparent that he had a thing for her but didn't know how to approach a subject without loosing their friendship. "And hey! You are saying all of that so that you won't be the only one who has been turned down".

Harry sighed in annoyance and rolled his eyes, "You've caught me, it's precisely what I'm hoping for". He didn't need his friend to rub his nose in his failure with Cho. And it wasn't Ron who would embarrass himself by showing up for the Ball without a partner.

Ron wanted to add something but then suddenly his eyes widened and glued to the spot above Harry's left shoulder. They represented such a level of dread that Harry felt a chill run down his spine. In a blink of an eye he turned around with the wand in his hand ready to repulse whatever attack was going their way. Professor Moody's words of constant vigilance echoed in his head.

"It's only Krum, you dolt!" said Harry in a huff and dropped back on his seat begging his heart to slow down. Seriously, at this rate he'd become one more paranoid in this school.

His friend predictably was still wearing a cornered look on his face and then grabbed a handful of Harry's sleeve tugging at it with such a force that Harry was afraid it could rip. "Yea, it's him and he's coming here. That's it then? Is he going to ask her now?" Ron darted a look to where Hermione was still engrossed in whatever girly talk she had with his sister. "Oh Harry what I'm to do?"

Harry wanted to remind him that he is not dealing with enormous Acromantulas hence there wasn't a need to work himself into a state of panic but Ron beat him to it by exclaiming, "I know! Harry you will ask Krum to go with you!" Now his eyes were shining madly. At Harry's scandalized expression he jumped in to explain his brilliant idea, "Why not? Look Harry you have so much in common. You're both famous, both play a seeker", Ron unabashedly counted with his fingers, "You're both wizards and famous".

"You said 'famous' twice actually", Harry shook his head.

"Isn't it awesome?" Ron asked while trying to pull him unobtrusively off the bench under the giggles of their audience. Harry tried to protest that no it wasn't really awesome but his friend was physically stronger and it was hard to fight his shoves.

Finally, Harry found himself on his fours right under the feet of Bulgarian's star in doing so preventing him from his further advancing. The Gryffindor felt like he'd been mercilessly sacrificed for the sake of love. Well, he'd indulge his friend and then would hold him accountable for it.

After he recovered from surprise Krum extended his hand and helped his rival up to his feet. "Um thanks", Harry uttered, feverishly trying to come up with an acceptable lie and mouthing to Ron 'Go! Now!'.

The redhead, to his credit, did as he was told, nervously wiping his palms on his pants. Now Harry's task was to win him some time to pluck up the courage and ask Hermione first. He begged all stars so that Ron wouldn't muck up things being… well himself.

"Viktor would you give me your autograph?" Harry blurted out feeling completely dumb. "You see I'm your fan and I've seen you played at the World Cup, it was amazing! Could you tell me how are you doing this move…"

Miracle of miracles, eventually Ron had managed to gain Hermione as his partner for the Ball. Ron however wasn't really happy about it as he thought that she accepted his offer out of pity. Harry had to admit that one part of him believed it to be the case as his redheaded friend had presented himself as a right fool, in the process winning applause and whooping from their table and a nearby one.

However, both Harry and Ron winded up just siting the Ball through that made Hermione and Parvati Patil, Harry's partner, to find for themselves more pleasant company for the evening. In the end, Hermione was circling to the slow music with Krum what leaded to Harry's two best friends quarrel. Hermione was too upset about the situation to be the one who had accepted the offer just out of pity though, Harry mused.

Nevertheless, it all was over and now Harry could return to worrying about the second task again which started to approach with double speed. And though Cedric decided to repay him for warning about dragons, it only brought another problem to deal with. Hermione and Ron had to speak to each other due to be of help to their dispirited friend. They would spend hours in the library trying to solve the riddle of how could one last a whole hour under the water. A few days prior to the inevitable Harry was seriously considering to purchase a muggle aqualung.

He wasn't looking forward to getting fully in the waters of the Black Lake. It in itself was bad enough as Harry had never managed to overcome the feeling of panic that overloaded him every time his head was under the water (Dudley and Vernon had seen to it). But in addition to it he would be expected to rescue a life of someone who would be dragged to the monsters' den. How he was supposed to do so was beyond his understanding. It would be funny really if eventually he was the one who would need to be rescued.

Harry was afraid not to be able to meet Sirius' expectations to be a strong man his father was in the past. His phobia now was almost always present on the surface of his mind making him irritable and twitchy. Each Occlumency lesson was a real torture without even a hint of at least a slight progress. Slytherins had taken to send cruel jokes in his back betting on whether the boy-who-lived would become the boy-who-finally-died. Being constantly under the pressure didn't do good for his health. As a result, Harry lost his appetite, didn't have time or desire to sleep and couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. But the last straw when all of it caught up with him was the DADA lesson where Moody had taken it upon himself to introduce the mere students to the Unforgivable curses.

As the boy watched his Professor producing a green light sending a spider behind the veil of life right in front of his eyes, he couldn't help the feeling of nausea rising in his stomach. Had his parents in a split second dropped dead like that small creature did? Was it like somebody had turned the lights off and now you couldn't mind your life anymore?

The breath caught in his throat and his limbs got icy. The classroom was dead silent. As if from afar Harry could distinguish Hermione's hand squeezing his shoulder reassuringly but he wasn't able to snap from this catatonic state at this moment. After class Ron and Hermione got him out of the room supporting him from either side.

"I need to…", Harry hated himself for how weak he sounded. He didn't even believe he would be able to finish the sentence without throwing up.

"Shall we get you to the Hospital wing?" Hermione asked him in a concerned voice. "I don't think it will be wise of you to go to the History of magic".

"No, I'm fine", Harry protested obstinately. He really had to go to the loo if he didn't want to embarrass himself right here and now. "I just need some time to think alone, that's all". And before they could say something Harry broke out from their arms and took off as fast as he could afford himself without arousing any suspicions.

Upon reaching the loo, he ran into the nearest stall and emptied his stomach, not that there was much though. When the spasms finally subsided, he emerged from where he had been crumpled on the floor. For a minute he entertained the idea of slacking off the next class but then thought better of it. He didn't want to attract more attention to himself after all. He was already late and would have to enter the classroom with all eyes on him.

But the corridor wasn't deserted as he had expected. There, nonchalantly leaning against the wall, stood Draco Malfoy himself. It seemed that he could care less if he missed one or two lessons. The blond sneered at him and evaluated the other boy's pale appearance. "You look pathetic scarhead, you know that? So much of the wizarding world's hero. Turning a tail and running to puke after itty-bitty Avada Kedavra, are we Potter? I've thought that after the first time it won't be quite of a shock to see something useless die".

Harry was just staring at him. He himself was surprised to feel only calm and composed instead of figuring what part of the ferret's face deserved the punch more. The boy in front of him knew only what his slimy git of a father made him to believe. He wasn't free to have his own thoughts. He had been living up to this same day nursing false ideas that others were below his eminent pureblood family. It must be sad to sit on the top all alone. And perhaps when he understood this, it'd have been already late. This boy couldn't even realize that the death wasn't something to joke about. "I feel sorry for you", the words rolled from his tongue before Harry could catch himself.

Malfoy's face fell. His lower lip now was trembling with anger. "Don't be so cheeky Potter. Who knows how long it will be till your second time". With that said Draco brushed past him bumping his shoulder against Harry's.

When the sound of Malfoy's steps faded away, Harry sighed deeply and slowly took the opposite direction. His intention of showing up to the lesson had long since died. Passing by the shadowed alcove in the wall not far from the spot where he and Draco had had a nice chat, Harry met the gaze of too familiar dark eyes.