Chapter 4. Veil of Death
Harry collapsed on the floor, drenched in sweat, grime and dirty water of the Chamber of Secrets. It had been two weeks since he summoned Henry and those were the toughest in his entire life. He really felt like had joined the army. It was constant training: in the morning (which always started at 4.30 am according to the Heroic Spirit) came physical exercises, followed by theoretical discussions (read "dodging dangerous spells"), and then spell practice, where Henry would help Harry perfect his casting — through it all, constant meditation and concentration on the feeling of flight. Just how that was supposed to help him Harry did not know, and Henry would always say that he would understand in time.
"Alright," Henry sent a cleaning spell his way. Now skin irritation was barely noticeable to Harry, his feeling of flight, which the spirit insisted he maintain all the time, was pushing it out of his mind. "Go have dinner. We'll continue afterwards."
The Great Hall was, as usual, full of people, and thankfully Hermione was one of them because at the moment Ron's glare and whispering were annoying and even the feeling of flying Harry tried to concentrate on did little to help. Therefore Harry quickly walked to the Gryffindor table and plopped down next to Hermione, hissing as his sore backside collided with the hard wood of the bench.
"Hey there," he said in a way of greeting before getting some food.
"Harry, I've just had the Care for Magical Creatures," Hermione started, drawing his attention. "Hagrid held Ron and I back and asked us to tell you to meet him today at 10 pm near his hut… And to bring your cloak," she finished in barely a whisper.
"Did he mention why?" Harry asked, even if he expected the answer, which had interesting implications.
"No, he didn't," Hermione seemed surprised. Harry could definitely understand her, it wasn't like Hagrid to concoct some schemes and plots. Usually, the half-giant would just come up to him and say what he needed, not like this. What was it with all the mystery around Harry all of sudden?
"Alright, thanks, Hermione," Harry smiled at his friend, it turned bitter after a single glance at a certain Weasley. "I wonder if Ron is even going to bother."
"I don't know what's gotten into him lately," Hermione's face fell. "He's been saying horrible things about you, Harry. I tried arguing, but he just called me a traitor," the girl finished, visibly shaken. Harry wanted to help her but didn't quite know how to go about it. He didn't want to appear too presumptuous by touching her or hugging, and he didn't want to embarrass her or himself. But then he also realized that he couldn't just let the situation unfold without some form of participation…
"I would just talk to her. Use touch if you really want to get her attention but don't overdo it," Henry appeared in his astralized form so that no one else could hear or see him, something Harry had gotten used to over the last couple of weeks.
"It's not your fault, Hermione," Harry said gently. "Ron can be a right git if he wants to, especially since he's so stubborn."
"Yes, reminds me of somebody," Henry looked at him meaningfully, which Harry thoroughly ignored.
"Thank you, Harry," Hermione visibly relaxed and gave him a brief smile. "Now as for your homework — and don't think you'll get out of it, I don't care if you're a champion or Merlin himself — I've been collecting all of it for the last two weeks and with the first task coming up you'll need all the practice you can get. So let's go over all of the spells we've been learning in class."
"Thank you, Hermione," Harry hastily raised his hand to prevent his friend from going on another tirade about the importance of lessons, "but I already know all those spells. Henry and I," he whispered, "are really ahead of the class."
"How?" Hermione's mouth remained open even after the question.
"Well, who can be a better teacher for me than well… me?" Harry gave her a lopsided smile, causing Hermione to shake her head in exasperation.
"So what have you studied so far?" the girl inquired with a spark in her eye. Harry's lips twitched.
"Why?" he asked innocently.
"Harry Potter," Hermione hissed, "you are not going to die on my watch, so spill!"
"Alright, alright," Harry chuckled. "Most of this semester material in defence and transfiguration. Charms are not quite my forte as it turned out, though Henry had me study fireproofing charm for some reason."
"But you're not bad at all at Charms," Hermione frowned. "I mean you had better grades than in transfiguration."
"Oh well," Harry shrugged. "Henry said so. And with him being my older self and all…"
"Makes sense," Hermione acknowledged grudgingly. "But you shouldn't abandon charms or any other subjects for that matter," she let her opinion be known.
"As if Henry would allow me," Harry snorted. "I swear, the guy is a slave-driver. I feel like I've joined the army or something at times."
"Well," Hermione began carefully, "he does act somewhat unlike you, although sometimes he's just your carbon copy."
"When?" Harry felt his mouth open in confusion.
"There was this one time in the library," Hermione said with a small smile playing on her lips, making Harry raise an eyebrow. He scowled as soon as he recognized the gesture and tried to wipe it off his face. "He was searching for a book and was utterly clueless where to look for it."
"That… does sound like me," Harry had to acknowledge. "But that's it!" he swore. "The guy's nothing like me. I can't believe he's actually me…"
"Why don't you want him to be you, Harry?" Hermione frowned. Harry paused for a moment and sighed, playing with the food on his plate.
"He's cold, like one of those slytherins," Harry muttered. "I mean, he looks ruthless. He doesn't hesitate to hurt others, to give out orders. He gets angry when disobeyed and doesn't hesitate to punish or throw insults around. I would never consider something like this."
An uneasy silence settled over the pair as each was engrossed in their own thoughts. Harry was still confused as to elder self turned out like this. He sure as hell didn't want to become a person like Henry. All the power was alluring, but he couldn't imagine any friends at his elder clone's side. It was just impossible to hang around a person like this. Another unwelcome voice interrupted their quiet contemplation.
"Hey Potter," it was Malfoy, standing right behind him judging by the source of the voice. Of course the brat would show himself in the most inopportune of times, "how is a glory hound's life treating you?"
What a snotty little brat… Harry mentally slapped himself. He was starting to sound like Henry. Great… He tried desperately to wash the thought out of his mind and decided that a little verbal spar with Malfoy could be beneficial for once. It's not something Henry would do after all.
"Why Malfoy," he chuckled, not turning away from his plate, "I'd have to ask you to find out."
"You filthy half-blood," the blonde drawled, Harry heard it more than the sneer really, but after three years of rows with Malfoy, he could read the boy so very easily. "Face your betters when they are talking to you!" The boy ordered imperiously. Well, at least the blonde tried to sound imperious, his breaking voice somewhat undermined the effort.
"Nah," Harry replied, taking a sip of his juice, "nothing I haven't seen before."
"Are you sure, Potter?" Malfoy's voice was suddenly full of gleeful anticipation, which made Harry tense. He decided to face the boy after all.
A badge on Malfoy's and his goons' robes caught his attention almost immediately. On it was a flashy text: "Support Cedric Diggory, the real Hogwarts Champion!" which in a moment turned into an even more flashy (if it was at all possible) "Potter stinks!" Harry was struck by just how immature the whole thing was, it only registered in his mind later that he should have been offended by it. Yet he wasn't, instead, the feeling of amusement filled him.
"Tell me, Malfoy," he smiled merrily, "do you pay someone to come up with those silly ideas? You should really double their pay. Their stunts are getting more stupid by the year!" Harry actually laughed. It was the first sincere laugh in a long while. He tried to stop it, as more and more people were turning to look at him, but Malfoy's rapidly reddening face was just priceless.
"Come on, Crabbe, Goyle," the boy spat eventually, "the filthy half-blood couldn't see his place if we were to snub his uncouth snout in it."
Which only elicited more laughter from Harry. Really, now he could face Henry.
-xxx-
It was five minutes to 10 pm when Harry reached Hagrid's hut under his invisibility cloak. He stuck his head out to announce his arrival to the half-giant.
"Hi, Hagrid," he greeted the man.
"Harry, you're 'ere," Hagrid replied hastily, looking around. "Quick, put tha' cloak back on and follow me. Jus' don't get caught, alright?"
"Ok, Hagrid, but what-" he was forced to quickly close his mouth and hide behind the cloak because Madam Maxim was approaching the hut. What was the headmaster of Beauxbatons doing here at this hour? That was when Harry noticed Hagrid wearing a tie and holding a bouquet of flowers in his arm. Was Hagrid going on a date?
"Bravo, Sherlock," Henry commented, sarcasm oozing from his voice, "your observation skills are truly a gift to mankind… The dishonest part, that is."
Harry clenched his teeth, holding back a retort. His future self was an ass — a clinical fact. That aside, why on earth would Hagrid call him here then? Surely the half-giant didn't need Harry's help. Wait… How did Henry know what Harry had been thinking?! He would have to figure it out later.
"Shell ve go, 'Agrid?" Maxim asked with a smile Harry recognized as a fake. Henry used it sometimes when the spirit was about to berate him. Why would she come here if she didn't like Hagrid enough to smile sincerely? His head was getting dizzy from all the questions flying around in it.
"O' course!" the man beamed. "Right tha' way."
Their little late evening stroll brought Harry to the Forbidden Forest. Was that Hagrid's idea of a romantic setup? In the meantime, the pair chatted about some nonsense, and Harry noticed that Maxim's smile was becoming a little less forced. He really had to give it to Hagrid, as unassuming as the man seemed, it turned out he could really charm a woman.
"It's really close," Hagrid said. Harry perked up and looked around. There was faint light coming from ahead of them. Was that the reason Hagrid called him? This stroll was becoming more interesting by the moment.
Whatever anticipation Harry had, came down with a brutal crash, when he saw just what Hagrid wanted to show him. Four dragons were caged, throwing fire around like it was candy. Teams of men, dragon handlers, Harry recognized, were running around trying to contain the beasts and minimize their fire output. Others were scrambling to put out multiple fires that were starting around each cage. That was the source of light Harry saw earlier.
Stiffness suddenly overcame him, when Harry realized just what for those dragons were brought to and held in the Forbidden Forest. Hogwarts had no need for dragons, neither did Hogsmeade. The timing was also a big giveaway. Those great fire-breathing lizards were here for the Triwizard tournament, likely the first task. Harry couldn't move as thousands of thoughts were running through his mind, most of them involving a gruesome death at the hands — or paws — of a dragon. Did the bloody organizers or the bloody tournament really expect the Champions to face fucking dragons?!
"We need to return to the castle," Henry appeared in his immaterial form. "Be careful, Karkaroff is several meters behind you."
Harry acknowledged his Heroic Spirit with a quiet nod and turned around, going straight for Hogwarts, dodging a clueless Durmstrang headmaster on the way.
Down in the Chamber was where he allowed himself to let go and just rant and vent off his frustration on the dummies Henry so generously summoned. At last, he stopped to take a breath.
"Are you done?" Henry drawled. "Your reaction was amusing so I indulged you, but it is getting tedious."
"Dragons!" Harry shouted.
"I'm quite aware," Henry's lip curled in distaste.
"Dragons!" Harry repeated, unable to put all his rage at many different people into words. Henry sighed and rolled his eyes. Harry was suddenly on the floor, crushed by an insurmountable force.
"Do shut up," Henry said in annoyance.
"Wait," Harry said from his position on the floor, "you're future me! You knew and didn't tell me!" he shouted. "You pretentious deceiving piece of..."
"Shut up, Harry," Henry's voice was colder than November air at night, that left hoarfrost in its wake. "You are aware of the powers at work here. I told you I couldn't reveal the future to you. So if you're done being an ungrateful brat," he spat, "then perhaps you would deign to listen to those trying to help you save your clueless ass."
Harry was silently fuming on the floor, glaring at his older doppelgänger. It was a clash of two equally stubborn tides, neither willing to relent.
"Couldn't you at least give me some clues?!" Harry shouted. "Or teach me anything useful?"
"Remember the fireproofing charms?" the spirit asked. "Now you know why I insisted you master it."
"As if that would be enough to fight a dragon," Harry replied bitterly.
"No, which is why you need a plan," Henry said.
"And I am supposed to trust you?" Harry exclaimed in bemusement. "First it's the seals, now dragons. What are you not telling me? Is Voldemort coming back now or something?!"
Henry looked at his feet and Harry took a step back. He looked at the Heroic Spirit in horror of the depths of its betrayal. His legs were suddenly weak but he managed to stay upright, though it did suddenly get a little harder to breathe.
"He is, isn't he?" Harry asked in barely a whisper. "How could you? I trusted you… Can I not trust even myself?"
"I told you I couldn't reveal the future," Henry replied calmly. "I can only give you hints at best."
"Henry, please, get out," Harry said. "Just… Just disappear for some time. You make my skin crawl."
"You still need a plan," Henry argued.
"And I'll bloody think of it with people I can actually trust!" Harry shouted. It was sudden, but the spark of anger just ignited in his chest in a full-blown bonfire of fury. "You were supposed to protect me! A fine job you're doing!"
"Listen, Harry, I understand that you're upset," Henry said, appearing calm, though Harry could see the spirit clenching one of its fists. "You need to keep cool, you need a sound plan."
"Are you going to tell me anything useful?" Harry asked bluntly.
"You know my constraints," Henry replied, "but-"
"Then I have no reason to trust you at all," Harry cut the spirit off. "I'll just have to use Hermione."
"Listen to me, you damn brat," Henry hissed. "You may think the world revolves around you. It is not true. I've been helping you as much as I am allowed to but what you're asking is impossible."
"Maybe I should just use one of the seals?" Harry asked coldly, glaring at the spirit.
"And use one of the chances for me to directly defend you?" Henry took a step toward him.
"Are you sure you're the Master of Death and not excuses?" Harry sneered in disgust. Something dark settled over Henry as the spirit took a step back.
"You think the world revolves around your needs, don't you, Harry?" Henry asked quietly. "Do you believe yourself to be special? Even with Voldemort's return, do you think you're one of a kind human? Some sort of chosen one? Well let me enlighten you, there will always be a million others just like you. If you think your dramas are unique, then you are a fool. Call me when you grow up."
The spirit disappeared in a swirl of black mist. Leaving Harry alone, fuming in the Chamber. "I hate you," he said to the empty space where Henry stood a moment ago.
-xxx-
Next morning was dull. Harry did most of the things on instinct. He woke up as usual at 4.30 am and went to do his morning exercises. Henry not being there didn't mean Harry was going to abandon everything. His world didn't hinge on the bastard's approval or participation. Especially with the threat of dragons Harry had all the motivation to push himself harder. Still, he barely even said a word to Hermione when she came down for breakfast.
"Is everything alright, Harry?" The girl asked. Figures she would notice, Hermione was way too sharp not to. Harry didn't know what to say, so he continued to eat in silence. "Did something happen with Henry yesterday?"
"I hate him," Harry said. His voice was surprisingly dull.
"What happened?" Hermione asked with obvious worry written all over her face.
"It doesn't matter," Harry shook his head. He really didn't feel like explaining everything to Hermione. "I just hate him."
"Does it have to do with Hagrid?" the girl persisted. Harry released a long-suffering sigh.
"Hermione, can we please drop it, at least for now?" he asked, not bothering to hide his irritation. She kept scrutinizing him for several minutes before signing in resignation.
"Alright," Hermione nodded. "But I don't think this animosity between the two of you is healthy."
"Uhuh," Harry nodded noncommittally. "Whatever," he took his bag and stood up, transfiguration would begin in ten minutes.
"Are you going to attend lessons today?" Hermione looked at the bag questioningly.
"Yeah," Harry nodded, putting hands in his pockets, "the bastard won't show himself, so I might as well pretend I'm a normal student."
Hermione actually looked conflicted. He thought the girl obsessed with studies will actually like him attending lessons. She caught his look and sighed.
"It's not that I don't think it good that you're back to lessons," she said carefully, "but your training was obviously more effective for you."
"Well, I'm not going to go to this pretentious ass," Harry groused. "You going?"
"Yes, let's go…"
It didn't take too long for them to reach McGonagall's classroom, which was already half-full of gryffindors and slytherins. Hermione all but dragged Harry to one of the desks in front and sat him near herself. Harry didn't particularly mind, he didn't care where to sit. Not like being at the back would spare him McGonagall's dressing-down that was no doubt coming. He watched as students filed in, all the while thinking about Henry's words. He hated the man, but his treacherous mind couldn't help but mull over everything the pretentious bastard spoke about. His musings were interrupted by McGonagall.
"I see, Mr Potter, that you have finally decided to grace us with your presence," the woman's voice was more stern than usual. Snickers could be heard for a moment before the professor squashed them with her iron glare. "I hope you have not been gallivanting these two weeks because I am not going to tolerate incompetence in my class, champion or no champion. Do I make myself clear, Mr Potter?" her eyes were boring into him.
"Yes, professor," he replied as evenly as he could, artfully not letting any of his irritation at Henry slip out.
"Very well," McGonagall nodded stiffly. "Now we will be transforming hedgehogs to pincushions. We discussed the theory during the previous lesson and you had an essay to write for today, hand it in by the way, so with enough practice you should be perfectly capable of doing that spell. You may begin," the woman instructed as hedgehogs floated from their cages to students' desks. One of them landed in front of Harry and stared at him with its beady black eyes.
Damn it. Even school was reminding him of that bastard. Hedgehog to pinch cushions. How primitive. The bastard had taught him the general theory behind animate-to-inanimate transfiguration and ways to adapt it to particular cases. It was just a matter of easy calculations one could run in their head. The only reason it was not a skill taught in the fourth year was that it required a whole slew of philosophical knowledge that was believed to be too complicated for fourteen-year-olds He did so and waved his wand. Words were redundant here if one knew the cause and effect. His hedgehog morphed into a perfect pincushion.
"Not bad at all, Mr Potter," McGonagall commented when she noticed his success. "I am pleasantly surprised. Keep up the good work. You may help other students."
"Yes, professor," he muttered and went about the classroom. He was in fact in no mood for human interaction at the moment but did anyone care?
When the class was finally over, Harry followed Hermione to the history of magic. Well, at least he would be able to catch a few more hours of sleep. While walking there he noticed a very pale Fleur Delacour charting nervously with some other Beauxbatons girls. She looked at him with some worry but swiftly averted her gaze. Harry came to an abrupt halt.
"Harry?" Hermione frowned beside him. "Is something the matter?"
"Hermione," he said urgently, "do you know where seventh-year hufflepuffs should be now?"
"How should I know, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Although I think I saw them in the Charms corridor. Why?"
"No time," Harry replied, already running toward the charms classroom. He needed to find Cedric as fast as he could.
He was out of breath when he reached the fourth floor. There he saw it, yellow and black. Harry swiftly approached the group, despite all the stares and glares that increased the closer he got to Cedric, who he spotted in the crowd.
"Cedric, we need to talk," he called.
"Why'd he want to talk to a traitor like you?" one of the hufflepuffs sneered, not that Harry even noticed.
"What's the matter?" Cedric asked with some confusion.
"It's urgent and private," Harry insisted. "I really need to talk to you."
"Don't listen to him, Cedric," one of the puffs said, "the traitor's just trying to get rid of competition or something. He knows he's no match for you."
"Whatever," Harry said automatically, "so will you listen to what I have to say?"
"Alright," Cedric slowly nodded. "I know a quiet place around here."
Harry nodded and followed the older teen. The quiet place turned out to be a broom cupboard, and Harry was desperately trying not to think about the reasons Cedric has behind exploring broom cupboards. He had more important things to do anyway.
"So what did you want to talk about?" Cedric asked as he closed the door.
"The first task, do you know what it is?" Harry asked without preamble.
"No, why?" Cedric regraded him carefully.
"It's dragons," Harry replied curtly. "It'll have something to do with dragons."
"Dragons?" Cedric hissed. His face cycled between fear and confusion. "How do you know that?"
"Hagrid showed me," Harry confessed.
"But why tell me?" Cedric asked, even more confused. "We're rivals."
"I don't care," Harry rolled his eyes. "You want to go against a dragon unprepared, be my guest," he bit out. Harry stopped and took a calming breath. This annoyance was directed not at the hufflepuff in front of him. "Sorry about that, I've just had some problems recently. Anyway, all the other champions know, I saw Maxim and Karkaroff there and they no doubt already told their champions. That and I don't think you'd want to face a dragon with your pants down."
"Thanks, Harry," Cedric swallowed. "Merlin, dragons," he breathed, "I'm gonna need to go to the library."
"Good idea," Harry nodded. "Right, that's all I wanted to tell you," he opened the door and stepped out when Cedric called him. Harry turned around and looked at the teen with a raised eyebrow, which he was quick to lower. The expression was annoying on so many levels for so many reasons. "What is it?"
"About the badges…" Cedric rubbed the back of his neck. "I told them not to-"
"Forget it," Harry waved a hand dismissively. "I don't care about them."
As he walked through a secret passage that would bring him close to the history classroom, Henry materialized in front of him. The sight of the Heroic Spirit made Harry scowl.
"Well that was something," Henry stated. "You decided to pay attention to someone other than yourself."
"Are you here to annoy me?" Harry bit out.
"No, I am here to say that you aren't as much of a self-absorbed little boy as I thought you were," Henry replied neutrally. It still came out as an insult, making Harry's scowl deepen.
"I hate you," he said.
"Whatever," Henry waved his and dismissively. "You still need my help with the first task."
"No I don't," Harry replied coldly. "Get lost."
"You got some meagre training and decided that you could take on a dragon, Harry?" Henry asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry's eye twitched.
"I don't need you," he repeated frostily, "so get lost."
"As you wish," Henry nodded with a vicious smile that suddenly appeared on his face. "Should I warn Hermione of your impending funeral?"
"Go. To. Hell," Harry spat and passed the spirit as it dissipated.
"Never been there actually," came the retort.
-xxx-
The next day Harry was pulled aside by Moody who dragged him to his office. It was a charming combination of morbid pictures with the effects of dark curses in them and enemy detection devices, that moved and clanked sporadically. Moody's artificial eye, as usual, spun rapidly, looking everywhere at once, while his healthy eye bored into Harry, making him squirm.
"Potter, do you know what the first task will entail?" the man asked suddenly, after taking a gulp from his flask.
"Why are you asking, sir?" Harry replied carefully.
"Don't be coy with me, Potter," Moody barked. "Dumbledore asked me to ensure your survival, and I intend to do that, rules or no rules. So?"
"Dragons," Harry answered. Moody nodded.
"Good," he praised, "now do you have a strategy?"
"I haven't worked on it yet," Harry shook his head. "I only found out about dragons yesterday night."
"No matter," Moody muttered. "Dragons are no walk in the park, lad. You'll have to play your strengths. What are good at?"
"I don't know…" Harry was momentarily lost. "I think I'm good at flying and transfiguration."
"Anything useful in your repertoire of transfiguration spells?" Moody raised an eyebrow, making Harry frown.
"I don't think so," he shook his head. Even with the Heroic bastard, he didn't learn anything beyond the start of the fifth year, i.e. vanishing spells, which were largely useless when facing a dragon.
"A broom it is then," Moody nodded. "You'll have to outfly a dragon. Think you can do it, lad?"
"I… I'll have to," Harry nodded.
"That's the spirit," the old auror clapped him on the shoulder. "You know summoning charms?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded.
"Good, then use them, you won't be allowed to bring anything but a wand with yourself," Moody told him. "Nothing about summoning though," the man winked, making Harry smile. "Alright, lad, go get ready, I'd find some fire-repellant charms in the library."
"Thank you, sir," Harry nodded in gratitude.
"Don't mention it," Moody replied, "not to anyone," he added as an afterthought. Harry's was not sure if it was meant to be a joke or not, but nodded regardless and left the office. Hermione was no doubt waiting for him. He couldn't shake off the good mood though, finally, there was someone willing to help him without giving him crap about brats.
As Harry left the office, he heard Henry's disembodied voice spoke again. "You should come up with a back-up plan."
"I don't need your help," Harry cut the spirit off and walked away.
AN: I don't particularly like that chapter. I might change it afterwards. The next one is shaping to be much better. Read and reviews, I might not reply to them but I do appreciate all of them. And of course my thanks to everyone who left a review or two.