Routines… Shattered

As the first few weeks passed, Harry's world set into a routine. An early morning work out gave way to studies, interspersed with the special sessions of Snape and Moody. September gave way to October, and Harry found that, while he was still unable to connect much with any potential friend, he was too preoccupied with everything to actually feel lonely.

Harry tackled the Auror regiment, Moody had given him. There was a variety of exercises, designed to both hone his reaction time and build his stamina. To round off the regiment, daily runs were prescribed. At first it was just another daily round of torture, but as the month progressed, he began to cherish these solitary, early morning runs. He would wake up, before the sun got up, and run around the lake. It was a six mile loop and at the time when he would do them, it was six deserted miles. It was not as freeing as flying, but there was a rhythm to it that was somehow peaceful.

Moody continued to coach him in fighting. At first, Harry had tried to call what they did dueling, but as Moody drilled him more and more, Harry was convinced what they were doing had nothing to do with Lockhart's dueling club. Moody didn't teach him how to stun an opponent. He taught him how to kill. It made chills go through Harry's back. How was this guy teaching at Hogwarts?

It was Harry's second training session with Moody that woke him up to this fact.

Flashback –

"Ok, Potter, show me what you got."

There were three dummies scattered around Harry. They were, for the moment, stationary. All he had to do, was show Moody that he could, continuously, fire the five spells he had learned this week.

Harry dropped to a good fighting stance. Casting per se did not require this. As long as the wand was waved correctly and proper intent was present, the spell would work. But with spells used in fighting, Harry had become habituated to doing so. It allowed for quicker reactions to enemy fire. Footwork was key in duels.

"Reducto, colloshoo, serpensortia, ventus, immobulus!" Harry rapidly fired at a dummy. He had practiced these five spells incessantly for the last week, and the magic flowed out of him effortlessly.

"Not a bad start, Potter, your execution of the spells is acceptable, although the spell chain puzzles me. Explain to me, what are your thinking?" Moody said, as Harry made the snake disappear.

"I started off with a blasting curse. I don't really expect it to land, but since it is a heavy hitter, my opponent should dodge it, which I hoped would leave an opening for my colloshoo. With his shoes sticking to the ground, the snake summoned by the serpensortia should have an easier time at getting to him. Then to distract him from the snake, I send a blast of wind after him, as well as trying to immobilize the target."

"Your last two spells are completely wrong for that task. You are right that you need to distract him from the snake, otherwise he will get it easily, but a blast of wind won't do. And the immobilize is redundant. You already stuck him to the ground. No, you need to redouble with heavy hitters. "

"My snake could have taken him out, it doesn't really matter what I throw at him." Harry tried to object.

"Potter, when you go for the attack, you need to throw as much deathly force at your enemy as possible. You throw your snake, a reducto and a well aimed cutting curse. No matter what he tries to block, two more deadly threats are there at the same time. When you fight, fight to win. Go for the kill."

– End Flashback

Harry met with Snape, as with Moody, on a weekly basis. Harry was happy that there seemed to be real progress in his mental capacity. The sessions, while still creating headaches the next day, did not get him into the hospital any longer.

The sessions focused on reconstructing his mental pathways, which served a twofold purpose. It led all thoughts past his still embryonic defenses, and it redirected them onto more efficient patterns. Harry noticed that even after just a month, he had an easier time staying on top of classes.

Harry felt a bit guilty about this. It did give him an unfair advantage over his classmates. He wondered how many purebloods had at least rudimentary Occlumency training for this purpose.

Over all, Harry liked his new schedule, but it did make his almost nonexistent social life disappear entirely. He was rarely able to see Mafalda anymore and a strain was cast between him and Granger. For example the morning after his second Occlumency lesson, he had a first real fight with Granger.

Flashback –

Before Harry even opened his eyes, he knew it would be a bad day.

Harry was aware that he was in the Madam Pomfrey's domain. Unlike after the first Occlumency lesson, he had no problem sorting out where he was. Nor did he have any trouble recognizing Granger's bushy hair, which was, as always, buried inside a thick tome.

What he did have trouble with, was forming a cohesive thought. Unlike last week, there was no relieve of painless foundations to his mind defenses. Instead, there were new pathways for his thoughts, that were cut through old habitual routes.

Would this change his personality?

His head felt like the Hogwarts Express had rolled over it.

The new patterns of thinking were not natural.

"I suppose, you fell down the stairs again?" Granger thankfully distracted him from his thoughts.

"No, the Hogwarts Express crushed my head."

"…"

"Granger, I'm sorry, I can't tell you."

"… I guess that is better than lying to me."

"What do you want me to say?"

For an awkward minute neither patient nor visitor knew what to say. Granger abruptly changed the topic, "I want to know, why you went to the Weasley twins for help with spells? You know I could have helped you with that."

"They are masters at pranks, and I needed it for their cousin. Why wouldn't I go to them?"

"I have always been able to help." Granger raised her voice.

Harry grabbed his head, "Shh, my head feels as if I had been through a Hippogriff stampede."

"Fine, if you don't want to be a friend." Granger stood up.

"Hermione, you always agreed, we couldn't be friends." Harry reminded her, almost at a whisper.

Granger glared at him and stormed out. Harry released an irritated sigh. What had happened to the rational and pleasant Hermione Granger that he had known? The summer was not that long.

And his head still hurt.

– End of Flashback

But it was not only Harry's relationship with Granger that suffered from his extracurricular studies.

In the House of Slytherin, the unofficial ceasefire had ended, that had been since Harry had taken over the seeker position in second year.

Malfoy did not like that Harry was improving in the class rankings. Harry was still far from the best among the fourth graders, but he was moving steadily upwards. While Harry had never shared the bottom of the standings with Crabbe and Goyle, he had never had the focus or drive to be even in the top half of the rankings. Harry had wondered if he would have done better if he had friends to push him. It was a moot point. He had always had no reason to try harder. Malfoy did not know that Harry improvement was driven by Snape's Legilimency practice and the tight schedule he had to follow.

Malfoy also despised that Harry was making any friends in the house. Even if they were just first years. Harry had helped Mafalda out on some occasions. While the years and schedules created a natural barrier, Harry and Mafalda, as well as her best friend Isolde Greengrass got along well.

Harry suspected that Malfoy's real worry was that through Isolde, Harry would befriend Daphne. Or worse, become allies.

Malfoy felt his position as most prominent snake threatened. This resulted in various small, but annoying confrontations between the two.

Flashback –

Harry left Charms in a little hurry. He had Herbology in only ten minutes, and it was outside by the greenhouses. It always was rather tight to be there on time. But today, he also had to pick up his dragon skin gloves. While he had dug through his bag, during Charms, he had discovered that he had forgotten to grab them in the morning.

Malfoy stopped him, "Mr. Potter, I would like to complement you on your performance in Defense last week. I was really impressed that you were able to get out of that unforgivable. But I guess you are used to at least one of them, they must be all the same."

"Heir Malfoy, I don't know that I have knowledge of the other ones. If you excuse me, Heir Malfoy, we have to get to Herbology."

With this short interaction, Malfoy had achieved two ends. He had once again driven home that he was the 'Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy,' one of the magical families that had come over with the Norman conquest of Britain.

Harry knew that whenever Malfoy addressed him as 'Mr. Potter,' he did it to drive home his superiority. Harry was not sure how many picked up on this, but Slytherin house customs forced him to, if addressed formally, reply with the proper title. In this case with 'Heir Malfoy.'

It was really not that big of a deal, but it was Malfoy's small way of getting around Snape's enforcement of 'the public face of Slytherin.' It had been long a tradition that Slytherin showed a united front to the rest of the school. This prevented the worst of Malfoy's jabs, at least when they were not in the Dungeons.

Secondarily, at least in Malfoy's mind, not in Harry's, was that this most likely meant that Harry was late to Herbology.

– End of Flashback

If this was all that happened, then Harry would have thought, 'well, better then first year,' and left it at that, but while his own routine was hardly affected by these shenanigans, Mafalda's troubles escalated. Malfoy's posse verbally harassed her almost any time they were in the Dungeons.

But that was not the worst of it. Often, second and third years would throw various hexes at her. There were a few times, in which the young witch even had to go to Madam Pomfrey to recover. Harry was strongly reminded of his first year, before he was discovered as the Slytherin Seeker in the second.

Harry tried as best as he could to protect the little redhead, but it was useless. Their schedules were too different for one, and Harry could not constantly guard her. Harry was glad that Mafalda had become such good friends with Isolde. With at least one friend at her side, Mafalda braved the Dungeons with a resolved frown. He was a bit surprised how quickly she adopted the Slytherin mask.

Of course the Slytherin lessons that Snape taught included contributed to this. Every Slytherin grade meet weekly with the head of house after all. In these lessons, they learned proper pureblood traditions and etiquette. Topics varied from how Slytherins should project house unity outside the Dungeons, or how to properly eat at a banquet to tips or even practice on dueling. Harry was reminded that the Dungeons was a school onto itself.

For some reason, this year Snape had introduced dance lessons in these Slytherin classes. Harry found, after the initial embarrassment of stumbling over each others feet, that he rather liked to dance with the pretty girls of his house.

All in all, it had been a busy first two months.

HPU

Today, the annual Halloween feast had for the first time gone as Harry had hoped.

Event-less.

Harry had spent the day mostly in silence. His two little, Slytherin friends knew that he would not want to talk on the anniversary of his parents death. He wished he could go and visit their graves. Harry was usually silent, but today he had been mute, in memory of them. In a small miracle, no one bothered him during the entire day.

Now , the Great Hall was again filled. Halloween was always fun to most students, but this year there was the added tension of the selection of the Triwizard Champions. The feast went as normal, however, apart from the presence of the foreign delegations. The visitors sat at their respective tables, and, with their alien tongues, added a bit to the flavor.

The Halloween feast was over now, and everyone was anxiously awaiting the decisions of the Goblet.

For this first big event of the Tournament, several reporters were allowed into the back of the hall. There had been erected, just for this night, a small podium to the right of the great door, so that they could get a good view of the spectacle.

Zabini's betting business had been a success. Harry was sure that no matter who was selected, Zabini was going to make a pretty penny.

Now the two Directors stood up. Both said a few words, that Harry tuned out on. Director Bagman tapped with his wand at the rim of the Goblet. The fire flared up and a moment later a small piece of paper rose into the air, and drifted onto the floor.

Bagman picked up the paper. He smiled in recognition when he read the paper. "Viktor Krum, the great Seeker of the Bulgarian National Team is Durmstrang's Champion!"

Loud applause. Bagman was not alone in his assessment that the Goblet had chosen correctly. From all tables, but especially from the Durmstrang and Gryffindor tables arouse clapping and whistles and a few shouts .

"Krum!"

"Show them!"

And some unpronounceable slogans, presumably in Bulgarian.

Harry would not be surprised if Krum would prove to be the most popular Champion.

Krum slowly rose from his bench. He was slapped on the back by some of his classmates. He shook the Directors hands and was pointed to a small door in the back corner of the room.

When the noise had finally settled down, Director Crouch tapped his wand on the Goblet. Again a piece of paper rose. Crouch caught it while it was floating down. He also seemed to recognize the name. "Fleur Delacour is Beauxbatons' Champion. Her Father is well known among the diplomatic community as the French Magical Ambassador to Britain."

The applause at this announcement was much more measured at first.

Then one of the loveliest women in the room stood up from the Beauxbatons table. She was tall and slim. Her blond hair reached to the round curves of her behind. Her chest was large, but not disproportional. In addition to the undeniable physical beauty, she also possessed a strange kind of magnetism. Harry guessed that she had some Veela blood, which could explain this aura. He had heard comments about her before.

Instantly the applause by the male population of the room doubled. She gracefully bowed. Harry noted that her own table did not cheer specifically hard.

Fleur courtesied to the Directors and followed Krum to the little door.

Director Bagman again tapped the Goblet. This time, he caught the paper as it came up the Goblet.

"Hogwarts will be represented by Gryffindor's Angelina Johnson. A Quidditch star in the making!"

The lions erupted into jubilation. The other tables followed a bit more subdued. Slytherins only clapped politely. Harry was sure that most snakes would root for Krum instead.

Angelina, with loud cheers from the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables virtually bounced to the Directors, quickly shook their hands and disappeared to the little door.

Crouch began to close the feast, "This concludes tonight's feast. I hope you encourage all three Champions, in their preparations for …"

A … hiss came out of the Goblet. Then the flames doubled in height and turned green. A fourth parchment arouse. Then the Goblet returned to its regular flame. It would only extinguish at the end of the Tournament.

The Hall was silent.

This was not supposed to happen.

Crouch hesitantly approached it and picked it up. With a blank face he read the paper, barely above a whisper: "Harry Potter."

"Could you repeat that?" asked Bagman.

"Harry Potter! Please go to the Champions room."

Harry was frozen. The entire population of the Great Hall stared at him.

"Having second thoughts now, poser?" Draco whispered to him.

Harry did not grace that with a response. He rose and darted to the small room. Whispers followed him.

HPU

A.N. Finally the Champions. I really want to move things along, but it just wont come out. My bad.

I must also admit that I was delayed and a bit rushed in posting this. I was reading Unspeakable Things by Darth Marrs, and got kind of sucked into that story, distracting myself from my own writing. I highly recommend all of Darth Marrs's writings. Most of them are rather lengthy, but well worth the time.