Ingenio ab Artifex (Formerly: Flowers for Your Grave)

by JaimeJabs

There have been many rumours surrounding me and my life—especially my love life. So, after due consideration—and a few well-aimed words from our resident bookworm—I have decided to publish my autobiography. For any questions and questionable charms placed on your copy of my self-updating autobiography, feel free to owl my publisher, Jaime.

5. Episode IV

Chapter 1: Gryffindor-ish

November 19, 1994

"I don't get it, Remus. How can be so quick to just… turn on me?" I complain. Yes, I may sound a little childish and Sirius might be sniggering behind me but really, I'm too angry at the way the twins just turned on me suddenly to care about it. I guess I have betrayal issues if that's a thing.

"Harry, try to understand them. Those two love attention. Everything they do is flashy, even their twin talk puts them in the spotlight, separates them from the masses. They have three older brothers. Three successful older brothers. They are trying to make their mark by using jokes and pranks, the one area they think they are better at than their siblings. Remember how they tried to put their names in the goblet? They turned it into a show. And they failed."

"Yes, but I didn't even put my name in!" This may be the right time to tell you I drunk a couple glasses of whiskey.

"Yes, you succeeded where they failed and you didn't even try. They work all the time to put themselves out there, to show the world they exist and there you go, stealing the spotlight," Sirius points out.

"That's not my fault. I will not take their shit for something that isn't my fault."

"You shouldn't," Sirius cuts in. "You should give as good as you get."

"No, take the higher road. It's not worth throwing a friendship away," Remus disagrees.

"They are the ones to throw away a friendship. And frankly, I'm beginning to understand why the Slytherins hate them so much. Gah! There is a sentence I never thought I'd say. They made me agree with those slimy snakes!" I say the last part as if it's an unfathomable concept.

"Harry, you can't label a whole group of people under a single banner," Remus lectures predictably.

"You are too easy, man." Sirius shakes his head. "Can't you see he's having you on?" He points to my grin, sniggering.

"You little bugger," Remus laughs. "When did you grow up and learned how to goad us?"

"Since I was like five. There is the 'I got lost, nice lady, can you help me find my father?' bit where I then act like a scared boy and Sirius buys me an ice cream to calm me down and look good to the woman. Then the 'where do babies come from?' bit with the same results just to shut me up."

Remus laughs while Sirius looks at me incredulously. We can't have that.

"Hey now. Remember how I used to pretend to miss my parents so you, Remus, would buy me an ice cream?" He stops laughing immediately.

"Damn."

"Yep. I loved me some ice cream." I nod.

"My whole life was a lie." Sirius cries dramatically and takes a large sip of the firewhisky he's holding. "So, what are you going to do about the red-headed menaces?" he asks me after swallowing.

"I guess I'll wait and see what they come up with. If they do something out of line, I will beat them at their own game; humiliate them into submission."

"You have two masters backing you if you need ideas." Sirius points to himself and Remus. Now, Remus may be a kind man but he's unforgivingly protective of me.

"Don't you worry, old man. I can handle two sixth-year idiots. Their ego is far too big for their minds to handle is all."

"I am not old," the prodigal Black son sniffs.

"No shit. You are turning white, godfather."

"Noooo!" he cries while Remus and I laugh at him.

"You are too cruel, oh, godson of mine. Too cruel, I tells ya."

I smile and take a sip of whiskey before my smile turns upside down. "So, any news on the sleeper agent?"

Sirius sighs and rubs his left wrist, an old injury from the war. "No, we've been investigating behind the scenes with Mad-Eye but not a single lead turned out. Whoever is behind this made damn sure to cover their tracks."

That's depressing. Not that I expected much progress. Magic is a thing of miracle and if the sleeper agent knows what he's doing,- and we have no reason to doubt someone capable of working around the enchantments of Goblet of Fire- they must know how to keep themselves hidden.

"So, where does that leave us?" I ask.

"We continue to train for every possible situation while keeping our eyes open," Sirius answers with conviction.

"Yay," I celebrate with the enthusiasm of a death row inmate.

-HP-

I stumble and fall, again, causing the only few inches of clean fabric on my back to lose the fight to the inevitable as I curse. I don't know what I was thinking, drinking so much, but regret is too difficult to muster when the stars give out a wondrous light show, spinning and spinning with no end in sight.

"Fly me to the moon, ye- let me play among the stars. Let me sh- see what shp- spring is like On Jupiter and Mars..."

I hear footsteps but ignore them in the drunken captivity of stars and music, singing one of Sinatra's masterpieces with slurred words and giggles for company. The owner of the foot accompanying my performance steps in front of me, a faint smell of flowers reaching my nose a moment before her silver hair blocks my view of the stars.

For a fleeting second, I debate whether to complain but she's a far superior scene than the one I had before. Her eyes roam over me, a small grimace marring her features, reminding me of the state of my clothes but I can't find it in me to care. "You look disgusting."

"You look divine," I respond, a reflexive half-smile on my lips, my words full of reverent honesty.

She sighs but the small reddening of her cheeks, visible only because of the silver glow coming from her wand, gives away her pleasure at the words. "What are you doing here at this hour? And are- are you drunk?"

I try to think up an excuse but my mind can't comprehend anything but the vision of beauty in front of me. "I can task you the shame quessions."

She points to my left, to where a big, powder-blue carriage is sitting innocently. "And no, I'm not drunk."

"Woah! That carriage looks aweshome."

Fleur snorts and waves her wand for a reason I can't begin to comprehend before sitting next to me as I turn my attention back to the stars. "What are you thinking?"

I throw her, I'm hoping, an inconspicuous glance. "Do you think there are aliens out there?"

She looks up for a second before turning her attention back at me and nods. "Yes, I think it's nonsensical for us to assume we are the only creatures in the universe as big as this."

"Do you think they shit too?" I ask, coming to the essential question.

"Oh, Joan!" she groans. "Why would you wonder such a thing?"

"You have a rudimentary knowledge of Egyptian mythos, I assume?" I ask. She nods. "Now, consider the ancient hieroglyphics. Among those, there are some that look awfully like what Muggles assume an alien aircraft would look like. So, let us imagine for a moment the Egyptian gods are aliens and the ancient and were so powerful, they seemed like gods."

A glance at her to see she's following my rumblings and a warm sensation flows through my body. "Now, take Ra, for instance. He's such a crucial guy amongst the gods. He created all forms of life. He fights Apep every night to keep the mortal world safe. Now, imagine for a moment if you will, that just as the sun sets, Ra had to take a shit which left no one powerful enough to fight off the God of Chaos. The world would have been screwed."

I watch the skies as I speak, my mind running with no sense of direction or intelligence, so I miss the moment it happened but when I turn to the beauty sitting next to me, she's looking at me incredulously, disbelief and amusement clear on her sunburnt features. "Is this what you do in your free time? Get drunk and wonder about mythological figures' bodily functions?"

I shrug and give her a big smile. "I work in mysterious ways."

"Talk about a big ego," she shoots but the small smile on her face tells me she doesn't take my words to heart.

"Hey, if the shoe fits," I joke and try to turn to my side to watch her with more ease. I end up lying face first on the mud.

Fleur laughs openly and deeply at my disgruntled mumbling as I stand, swaying. "Wow. Someone should tell the world to stay still."

She points her wand at my face and whispers, "Tergeo," to clean my face. "Let's get you to bed, shall we?"

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea." I take a step forward and stumble but Fleur catches me with an arm around my waist. I smother a smile and put my arm around her shoulders under the guise of using her for support. "Are you going to carry me to my room, oh my princess in shining armour?"

She half turns while applying a small pressure on my back to get me to move. Our faces are oh-so close, all I would have to do to steal a kiss is move my head a few inches. "You have an overactive imagination," she answers dryly.

I shrug, using our closeness to breathe in her delicious flavour. "A guy can dream."

"By all means, dream on."

We walk in silence for ten minutes, the muddy ground under our feet causing us to stumble often. The parallels with the night we met are obvious but I doubt I'll get to see her in her birthday suit this time. Still, I enjoy the feel of her body holding me up and the smell of she exudes jolting my senses every which way.

By the time we reach Hagrid's hut, she's breathing hard and I take pity on her with great reluctance. I stop our forward momentum, if you can call our crawling speed a momentum at all, with a small pressure on her shoulder. "I'll be okay from here on."

She looks up at me and I realise I'm taller than her now, which wasn't the case in summer and I wonder if it's because of the lack of heels or if I have grown. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I mumble and point to the hut and the smoke coming out of the chimney. "I'll crash at Hagrid's. He's a right bear, he is, and it's been a while since we spoke."

She looks dubious but nods, a little too eager to get rid of me for my taste, and walks us the short distance to the big man's doorstep.

It takes Hagrid a minute to answer the door, Fang barking up a chaos inside. "Shut up, you ruddy beast." The half-giant opens the door, a curious look on his face before that look turns to surprise, followed by an exasperated sigh. "What did you do this time, James?"

"I didn't do nuffin," I answer with a faux-offence.

"I found him lying on the mud," Fleur interrupts in a broken English that is far too sexy to be allowed without a license to speak. "He's drunk."

Hagrid takes a moment to decipher the words and shakes his head. "A nice cuppa should take the edge off well enough." That's Hagrid for ya. A cup of tea can solve any problem in his mind.

Instead of moving back and allowing us to enter, he swipes a giant hand and lifts me up by the back of my shirt like I'm a misbehaving child. "Hey! Be gentle," I complain. "I'm delicate."

"I've seen you take a bludger to your head and shrug it off," the big guy answers as he throws me to a big armchair. For a moment, he looks around like he forgot something before he moves to a side. "Come in, come in," he calls out to Fleur who has been watching us with a smile from the door.

She seems indecisive for a moment before she does as bid and sits across from me on another armchair, a new addition to the hut. The way she moves and sits is so delicate, like those of a royal princess from a movie, that a snigger escapes my lips before I can process. She throws me a dirty look before raising her nose in the air.

"So, what have you been doing out at this hour? Drunk no less?" Hagrid asks as he gives me and Fleur a mug of tea each after a few minutes of silence.

The look on Fleur's face as she takes the comically large mug is a gold standard though I refrain from laughing out loud. What surprises me so far in her reactions to Hagrid's home is I sense no disdain from her and no judgement. My opinion of her raises to new heights.

"I won my first duel against Remus today so we were celebrating by the lake with a few bottles of firewhisky," I answer and take a sip of the hot beverage, enjoying the soothing effects it has on my stomach. Maybe Hagrid was right. Maybe a nice cup of tea can solve the world's problems.

An errant thought makes me snort tea, earning raised eyebrows from the other two occupants of the room. They look at me questioningly but I wave their question away. I can't very well explain why I find the idea of stopping Voldemort with a cup of tea so funny.

"Ah, that explains it," Hagrid comments on my explanation. He looks out the window with a small smile of remembrance. "They were always like that, those two. Your father too. Always looking to make things interesting. I reckon I collected their drunken arses out of Black Lake in the middle of the night a dozen times at least."

I lean forward on my seat, drinking in the story about my father like I do every time. "And my mother? Did she ever join the resident troublemakers on their teenage rebellions?"

"Nah," Hagrid answers with a laugh. "Your mother had far too much sense to go anywhere near your father and his cohorts. But I could always tell she enjoyed their brand of chaos, no matter how much she would deny it."

I smile, the image of my mother's hidden smile as my father makes an arse of himself on my mind, branded forever there.

"So, what have you been up to?" Hagrid asks, sounding nonchalant which makes me think he's uncomfortable about something.

"This and that," I answer with a shrug, examining the man's face for any clue on what he wants to tell me but feels conflicted. "Training with Sirius," I say and continue when his face shows no tells, "preparing for the tournament."

There, his mouth twitched. Whatever troubles him is about the tournament. "Good, good," he says distractedly, having an internal debate.

I glance at Fleur and wonder if it's a good thing she's here or not. She looks vaguely interested in the proceedings though her eyes are mostly on me so she probably didn't catch onto Hagrid's discomfort.

I can't say I'm displeased about that, she can look at me as much as she wants.

"Dragons," Hagrid whispers, pulling me out of my musings. I turn to Hagrid who is leaning forward on his seat, his shoulders tense. "The first task is Dragons."

I glance at Fleur again to find her positioned similar to Hagrid, her eyes wide. "They want us to kill a Dragon?" she asks, disbelief ringing clear in her voice.

Hagrid shakes a head in a Dobby-like reaction. "Nah. No easy feat, killing a Dragon. Takes dozens of wizards. I hardly think they would ask that of a bunch of school kids, no matter how talented you lot are." He chuckles and leans back on his seat. "'Sides, I doubt the Dragon Sanctuary would allow six of their dragons to die. No, I reckon you'll steal something from them. All six are mothers with eggs."

"Yeah, 'cause that makes them all docile and friendly," I grumble, unsure whether to be insulted by the happy look on Hagrid's face. It must be a dream come true for him, seeing six dragons up close.

Fleur and I make eye contact as both of us process the knowledge we will have to, one way or another, face creatures classified as wizard-killers. I think about the possible ways I can get around a dragon or get the better of it but the only thing my drunken mind can focus on is the image of a fiery death.

"How glad you must be, Fleur, to have a chance to compete," I joke, but it falls flat as the girl glares at me with enough heat to rival a dragon.

Yeah, she'll be okay.

-HP-

November 20, 1994

I walk into the castle with a spring in my step, enjoying the surprisingly warm morning sun. It's Sunday and a good one at that, what with the sun and all.

I am hungry enough to rival Ron this morning because I might have forgotten to eat anything last night. Oh, well.

I make my way to where my friends and I usual seat at the Gryffindor table and sit down next to a glaring Hermione. Her expression turns to shock, a blush creeping to her face as she stares at my chest and I look down to see- Oh my, I'm naked except my boxers. The twins must have charmed my seat to vanish everything except the essentials. Nicely done.

I can see my friends and the twins waiting in silence for my reaction but I give none. I put a dozen strips of bacon and some chips on my plate and start on my meal. Slowly but surely, all conversation across the great hall stops. I still give no sign of discomfort.

The idiots think sitting naked in front of a thousand people is humiliating? Okay, yes, it is an embarrassing situation but I sure as hell won't let them know it.

Surprisingly, I finish half of my plate in silence before anyone says anything. "Mr Potter, I hope you are aware of your... nakedness?" Professor McGonagall sighs. A laughter erupts across the hall.

"Oh, boy. I knew I was forgetting something this morning." I shake my head. "I will be sure to put on some clothes when I finish eating, professor." Another laughter.

"You will go to your dorm and dress appropriately now, Mr Potter." That is an order and the way she said it promised regret if I don't comply immediately..

"Aw, man! I was right in the middle of the best part of breakfast."

"There is a best part of breakfast?" Hermione asks, unable to stop her curious mind even with her blood threatening to burst out of her face.

"Yeah, eating it," Ron and I respond at the same time. Sometimes, we are so in sync, it's scary.

"Mr Potter!"

"Okay, okay. There is no need to yell, my dear professor. I'm going."

I stand up and make my way to the middle of the hall leisurely. Ignoring the looks I get from the ladies is hard but I fight tooth and nail to keep the blood from rushing to my face. My tattoos, I think, attract a lot of attention, especially the moving tattoo of Puck.

I hear a handful of people whistle and my ego hits the roof. Just before I leave the hall, I stop and bow to the hall as a few people clap, Katie leading them.

"Thank you. I'm here all year long, ladies and gentlemen. Please don't forget to tip your waiters."

-HP-

November 23, 1994

"Harry James William Black Potter!" Now that's a mouthful and a whole new level of angry Hermione. Oh and yes, I decided to go all Dumbledore and have a ridiculous number of names. "You should work on figuring out a strategy for the task in three days instead of sitting on your butt and playing that barbaric game of chess!"

I get the feeling Hermione is upset about something. I'm pretty sure.

Speaking in what I hope to be a soothing voice, I say, "Hermione, dear, calm down."

Ron ruins my efforts at a single stroke. "She said butt." That he sniggers after saying that is just the icing on the cake.

"And you, Ronald Bilius Weasley! Instead of facilitating his laziness, you should be encouraging him to prepare for the task ahead!"

"I have a plan, Hermione. I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Calm the fuck down."

"What plan?" There is a moment of silence where we wait for the penny to drop. "And language," she adds with an uncaring wave when she realises what we are waiting for.

"I'm not going to tell you what my plan is," I say, my tone is incredulous as if that's the most ridiculous thing I heard.

"What?! Why not?"

"I don't wanna."

"What do you mean you don't 'wanna'?"

"I want it to be a surprise. It's a good one though."

Hermione sighs and looks up. "James... Please. I'm going crazy with worry here." Her eyes are more than a little moist at this point but I won't cave.

"Hermione, after all we've been through, do you really think I'll let a little thing like a Dragon hurt me?"

Ron snorts at my words. "That little thing is an over twenty-five foot, fire throwing, flying lizard."

"Semantics."

"Whatamantics?"

I wave my hands aimlessly at Ron. "Ron... just... okay?"

He nods. "Okay."

See, Ron gets it.

"Hermione, dear, I will be just fine. I won't get hurt, I promise."

"How are you going to manage that?" Apparently, Neville doesn't get it.

"Merlin! Don't you people hear a word I said? I. Won't. Tell."

"But-"

"Hermione, think about what you want. Do you really want to have a fight just before I go against a Dragon? Those things are dangerous. Do you want the last conversation we may ever have to be a fight?"

"You just said you have a plan that would make sure you don't get hurt!"

I nod. "Yes. So there is no need to worry."

I fried her brain at this point. Now, Hermione is a smart girl but when she gets emotional, it's easy to mess with her logical side if you know what you are doing.

"I guess that makes sense."

"No, it doesn't." Sometimes, I want to kill Neville.

"Neville, even Hermione agrees with me. Are you sure you want to argue against Hermione? You know, the smartest witch of her age?"

He shrugs but gives me a pointed look that tells me he knows I'm full of shit. "I guess not."

"Good. See, we are one big happy family."

Hermione looks at me with her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You used that weird logic thing on me again, didn't you?"

I put on an innocent mask. "Me? Never."

Ron snorts and that starts Hermione on another rant.

After another half an hour of pointless arguments, Hermione finally gives up. "Fine. Don't tell me. I'll just crawl to a corner and die out of fear quietly."

"You can be such a drama queen sometimes."

Neville changes the subjects slightly. "What about Cedric? We can't let him go to the task without knowing he will face a Dragon."

"Yeah, I want to tell all of them." I nod. "Any ideas on how I go about telling without everyone knowing it's me?"

"Why don't you want to reveal it's you?" Hermione asks.

"I want no one to think they owe me anything. This is about sportsmanship and making sure they all survive."

"We'll figure something out."

And we did. Well, it was Hermione's idea, mostly. She figured it'd be best to just write them a note each and send them with owls. Idea being so bland, I added a little flair. We transfigured five miniature paper Dragons, and I charmed them to fly to their target. When the dragons land in front of the champions, they would untransfigure themselves, revealing the writing on them; 'There be dragons, y'all'.

- Flowers for Your Grave -

Chapter 2: Trials of Fire

November 26, 1994

I walk into the great hall and take a deep breath. Man, I love the smell of excitement in mornings. Okay, that didn't sound as cool as I thought it would. Nevermind.

Excitement is in the air as I walk into the great hall. That's no better. Whatever.

Today is the day of the first task: the Fire Challenge. Everyone in the hall is excited. Well, except champions and their close friends. They are nervous and afraid for their friend, respectively. A date with a Dragon does that to you.

Don't get me wrong, by now, everyone knows the champions will face dragons. I guess when you are not the one who will have to face the danger, the prospect of death is entertaining to the masses. Who knew?

I'm not too sure about the details of the task but I'm betting they won't have us fighting the dragon into submission. That would be stupid and hypocritical considering Hogwarts' motto. Hagrid's idea makes the most sense, I guess, and I planned accordingly.

I walk to the Gryffindor table with Hermione and Neville. Ron is still sleeping. What a surprise, I know. When we reach the table, some people clap, which is nice of them. I guess I still have the support of some Gryffindors.

I give my supporters a nod and pile up a large breakfast. I'd be lying if I say I'm not nervous but I'm doing okay. Better than I did before my first Quidditch match at least. Hermione is nervous enough for the both of us anyhow.

I finish my plate and use the opportunity to spy on my competition. Krum has his poker face on but you can see him go over his playbook by the vacant look on his face. Britt's face shows her nerves but compared to the other champions, those two look as if it's any other day.

Fleur is not her usual self to say the least. Normally, she'd sit with perfect posture and pretend only her small group of friends exist. Right now, her face is pale and I don't think she is pretending. She really notices no one around her.

Next to her, Aimee is a mess of nerves. There is no other way to put it. Her hands shake as she drinks from a goblet and I can see the sweat on her face from where I sit, two tables over.

Cedric is not himself neither. On an average day, Cedric can be best described as a social butterfly, conversing with everyone around him and always smiling. Now, he looks on with unseeing eyes, unaware of the nervous glances of his friends. I'm guessing he's questioning why he even considered entering this tournament, let alone compete.

"Harry. Harry!" I hear an exasperated Hermione.

"Sorry. I spaced out for a second."

"I wonder why," she says sarcastically. "Are you sure you are ready for this?"

I can see the fear she has for my livelihood in her eyes. No! I won't cave. I grin. "Relax, Hermione. I'll be fine. It's just a Dragon, for Merlin's sake."

"Aren't you nervous at all?"

Oh, yeah, I'm nervous. It's a fucking Dragon. "No."

"At least tell me your plan."

"No."

"Tell me. Tell me. Tell me."

"You will have to wait and see, Hermione."

"Come on. It'd ease my mind to know you have a plan."

"Not going to happen. Rest assured, I have no intention of going anywhere near a Dragon."

"You don't even know what the challenge is; what makes you think you won't have to go near it?" It's Neville who asks that wonderful question. Merlin, he's pushing Hermione towards a heart attack at this point.

"Well, I'm guessing they won't have us kill a Dragon or pet it. We will have to either get past it, in which case I don't even have to worry about it, or they will make us steal something from it."

Hermione thinks about it and nods. Neville, on the other hand, points to a viciously happy Draco Malfoy and asks, "Are you sure about that?"

I gulp. "Yeah, pretty sure," I stammer.

Now, I'm really nervous.

-HP-

"Mr. Potter, the champions are expected in the tent to prepare for the task," Professor McGonagall informs me in a far too emotionally charged voice for her. For a normal person, her voice might be business as usual but us, Gryffindors know her better.

"Sure thing." I give a kiss to Hermione and nod to Neville and Ron, who finally deigned to join the land of the living, and get up to follow the lady.

I follow her out of the great hall and the castle. While we walk, I take in the beautiful weather. "It's a great weather, don't you think, Aunt Min? Just the right temperature to fight a Dragon."

Understanding dawns on her and she rewards me with a small smile. "How did you find out?"

"You know me. Nothing goes on this school without my knowledge," I answer cockily. "I mean honestly, not even Salazar could keep a secret from me."

"And pray tell how did you find out about this one? Albus was doing his best to keep this a secret." She is back to professor mode.

"He shouldn't have told Hagrid then," I chuckle.

"Who else knows then?"

"I'd wager everyone knows by now seeing as Fleur was with me when Hagrid told me and I informed the other champions anonymously."

She chuckles and pets me on the arm. "That's good. I don't know what they were thinking, pitting school children against Dragons. With no preparation no less."

It's obvious she's been stressing about this a lot.

"Don't worry, Aunt Minerva. I'll be sure to protect you from the big bad Dragon," I tease.

She glares at me. "You should focus on staying alive, Harry. A Dragon is nothing to joke about."

"Meh. After that Basilisk, a Dragon should be a child play."

"Harry-"

"Don't worry, auntie. I have the perfect plan. I have no intention of going anywhere near those things."

She looks at me searchingly and nods. "Good. I'd hate to lose the Quidditch cup to Severus next year."

I look at her incredulously. "That's all I am to you, am I? A guaranteed win for the Quidditch cup. I knew it." I put my hand in my heart dramatically. "Damn you, woman. I gave you my heart, and you broke it. Are you happy now? Tell me, are you happy?"

We are at the entrance of a tent erected just for this occasion. "If you are done with your theatrics, Mr Potter," she drawls and pushes me in.

"Fine," I huff. "You used to be more fun."

The champions already there with Ludo 'the Fatman' Bagman and Barty Crouch, the guy with the most awful voice to have ever graced the god's green Earth.

"Wonderful, now that we have all the champions here, we can begin," the fat man announces hyperactively. He pulls out a bag from his robes. "Inside these bags are miniature versions of the creatures you will to face. Each of you will get a different breed based on your selection, randomly, from the bag. Are you ready?" He beckons Fleur. "Ladies first."

Fleur picks a Dragon that can be only described as gorgeous, what with pearly silver scales and multicoloured eyes. It has the number five drawn on her belly. Antipodean Opaleye. The Dragon looks around prettily and huffs a smoke. It's an unlucky pick though. Antipodean Opaleye are not aggressive but they are wickedly smart according to Newt Scamander.

I met Mr Scamander once in my third year when he came to Hogwarts for the Buckbeak incident. He was one of Dumbledore's favourite students and when Dumbledore asked for his help on saving Buckbeak; he rushed to the Hogwarts. Apparently, he was kicked out of Hogwarts like Hagrid but Dumbledore pulled strings and made sure he kept his wand. It's a shame he couldn't do the same for Hagrid. The famous magizoologist is an odd guy with the heart of gold. I think the best way to describe him would be 'a smarter, smaller Hagrid'.

He showed me this amazing suitcase he turned into a zoo for magical animals. He had a Nundu- a fucking Nundu- that was docile as a house cat.

I petted a Nundu! Can you believe it?!

We talked about magical animals in great length. He was quite interested in Puck and the monstrosity I disposed of in Chamber of Secrets. He said both were incredibly rare; it was the first time he ever came across a Raiju and never done so in the Basilisk's case. He advised me on what to expect as Puck grows and I gifted him with some extra Basilisk parts I had lying around.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes. The Opaleye.

I can feel the urge to swoon and tell myself 'I must not swoon' repeatedly. The creature is a cutie though I doubt the real thing would give me the same desire.

Bagman holds the bag for Aimee to pick. She picks a Common Welsh Green. A lucky choice as long as she avoids the Dragon's fire which would be difficult as this Welsh delight has a long range and an owl-like neck that allows her to rotate her head almost full circle. Aimee will go first, which gives her less time to adjust and come to grips with her fate.

Britt goes next. She gets number four; Swedish Short-Snout. Damn. That's a fiery one. Its fire can reach temperatures so hot, it can reduce someone to ash in fifteen seconds.

Cedric picks a Peruvian Vipertooth with Number two on it. Now, which idiot's idea was to bring a Vipertooth? For those of you who didn't know, these fuckers are the source of Dragon Pox. You know, the most dangerous illness for the wizard kind. And an injury from the fire those bastards sprout is a nightmare thanks to the disease they spread. After all, to cure Dragon Pox, the victim's body temperature is kept high and to cure a burn victim, you keep the body temperature low.

Krum moves ahead of me and puts his hand in the bag. He pulls out number three, Chinese Fireball. An agile Dragon for a professional athlete, or what passes for an athlete for the magical people. Still, it's a good pick. If Krum is as agile on the ground as he's in the air, he can easily negate Chinese Fireball's agility.

That leaves me... fuck. Hungarian Horntail. It may not be a Basilisk or a Nundu but those sociopathic fuckers are one of nature's most effective killing machines. Still, there is a silver lining; if my plan doesn't work, my death will be swift.

Yay!

Bagman looks a little upset with my pick. Either he has a soft heart or the fucker bet on me which would explain his reluctance to allow additional two champions. Lucky for him, I have a great plan. I think I do. I hope I do.

Okay, I am getting nervous now.

"Your task today is to steal a single golden egg from the Dragon you picked. After that, you are going to steal three smaller opaque eggs from another beast. What beast is that you may ask," he says leadingly and cheerfully. Fat fuck. "That is going to stay a surprise. Get pass your dragon and you shall see. Your eggs will provide the clue for the second task."

I guess he must have had enough with Bagman as well because Crouch finally talks. "When you hear the cannon, Miss Beaufort, proceed out of the tent to start your task." When everyone nods, Bagman and Crouch leave.

We all stand aimlessly for a second before moving to our designated changing rooms to prepare.

I enter the changing room to find a uniform in Gryffindor red and gold that resembles a tracksuit too much for my liking. I understand the colours. House pride and all that but I will not go out to the public with this. I don't care how shallow you think I am being.

Instead, I transfigure the clothes into a purple robe with stars and moons on it and some leafs I find on the ground to fake beards and hair, all white of course. All that is missing now is half-moon glasses. I use rocks for that.

I look in the mirror and find a shorter, green-eyed, straight nosed, all around better looking Albus Dumbledore looking at me. Good. I feel smarter already.

I return to the main room of the tent and everyone looks at me weirdly. "What? Do I have something on my face?" Oh, how I wish I knew how Albus does that twinkling eye thing.

Cedric is the one to respond. "James?"

"Yes, my boy? Did you need something?" I ask in a grandfatherly tone.

"You don't plan to go out there looking like this, right?"

"Why not?"

"You realise you look like Dumbledore, don't you?"

"A most astute observation, Cedric, my dear boy," I answer with my best Albus impression.

He looks at me like I'm insane. "Won't that, you know, impede your mobility?"

See, that's what I like about Cedric. He looks out for everyone.

"When you are my age, Cedric, you find agility a thing of the past," I answer sagely.

"You are insane," he says in realisation.

I nod. "Ah, I always found senility to be an overrated concept."

He shakes his head and turns his back.

Some people have no sense of humour. I made Aimee smile though. I guess that's something.

The cannon goes off. Aimee's smile disappears as she takes a deep breath and proceeds to the exit. Fleur cuts her off and hugs the breath out of her before allowing her passage.

Next twenty-eight minutes are tense. We listen to the dragon's roars and the crowd's 'ah's and 'oh's. We listen as they cheer and as they scream and it's fucking nerve wrecking. Knowing what's out there but having no idea what's going on is a nightmare akin to what's waiting out there.

The crowd screams again and I send a silent prayer for Aimee. She seems like a delightful girl with a smile for everyone.

There is silence after the scream and it's even worse than the scream.

Finally, after a minute of silence, crowd roars in approval and all five of us take a deep breath. We may be competitors but none of us wants any of the others dead. Well, Cedric wants humour dead but whatever.

Fleur's relief though is a sight to see. A look of someone who has seen sun after decades in captivity passes on her face and it is breathtaking. This is the only time other than when she played the violin after the club that I've seen this much emotion on her face.

Aimee did well though. Thirty minutes is not bad when you consider she went against a Dragon and Merlin knows what else the sadistic minds of the organisers cooked up.

"Am I the only one cursing myself for entering this thing?" Cedric asks with a nervous laugh.

Everyone looks at him sympathetically in confirmation but I'm the only one to verbally answer. "Yeah, we curse you too, mate." Cedric laughs and Krum gives a small smirk but I get no reaction from Britt or Fleur.

Cannon goes off again, and it's Cedric's turn. "Good luck, Cedric. Watch out for the face. Wouldn't want to damage the goods," I offer him and he nods in response.

Listening to Cedric is no different. The only difference is the crowd celebrates a little more enthusiastically after thirty-five minutes.

Next goes Krum, and he finishes in thirty minutes with a lot less cries of despair.

Britt goes, and it's just Fleur and me in the tent now. She looks nervous but self-assured. I guess hearing other people survive helped her nerves; I know it helped mine.

There is a scream from the crowd around forty minute mark, and Fleur and I look at each other with wide eyes. That didn't sound good. After half a minute of tense silence, crowd cheers not-so-enthusiastically.

"Does it smell like over-cooked meat to you?" I ask with a nervous laugh.

"I don't think that's funny," Fleur hisses.

"Relax. They wouldn't cheer if she wasn't okay. I'm guessing she's feeling a little hot, but that's nothing Poppy can't fix."

"How are you so calm?"

I really am calm now. Hearing Cedric and the others go through their dragon helped my nerves immensely. Now that I know they did it, I know I will as well.

"It helps that I have no intention of going anywhere near any Dragon."

She raises an eyebrow at me. "Giving up already, boy?" she asks me a little too condescendingly for my taste.

"Nope," I answer cheerfully. "I'll finish this task the fastest and with no injuries whatsoever."

"And how do you plan on doing that if you won't go near the Hungarian Horntail?"

"I will rock her world." Heh. That's a cool pun.

She rolls her eyes prettily. "Are you not going to tell me?"

"Why would I ruin the surprise?"

The crowd cheers again which means Britt survived the task. I breathe a little easier. All my bravado aside, I really was afraid she'd not. She finished in forty-four minutes.

"See, she survived," I point out to Fleur. She gives a small smile. That's something, I guess. "So, what is your plan?"

"Why would I tell you my plan when you won't tell me yours?" She smirks.

"Just because I am stubborn and obnoxious, doesn't mean you have to act the same."

"Fine." She laughs. "I will tell you only because there is no way you can steal my plan. I am going to sing it to sleep."

She can sing? Is there anything she can't do?

Oh, and I can't believe I'm jealous of a Dragon. I can't hear anything from the pit.

"Oh, boy." I shake my head.

"What?" she asks me right before the cannon go off.

"Let's just say my song won't be putting anyone to sleep. Good luck out there. And... be safe," I order her seriously.

"Thanks."

What follows is twenty-seven minutes of hell.

-HP-

The cannon goes off for the last time today and I calmly walk out of the tent. It's evening, so the sun is to my right. That will be a big advantage against the Horntail.

The crowd's first reaction upon seeing me is laughing which surprises me for a second before I remember what I look like.

The Quidditch pitch is unrecognisable. There is no field of grass anymore. Hell, there is no field. Instead, everywhere I look is filled with rocks and boulders of various sizes. The only remnants of the Quidditch stadium are the expanded stands outfitted with a new colour scheme that offers a sense of internationality to the tournament.

I stroll calmly, my senses on alert, and after twenty feet, I see a steep slope down. It's a small pit with four of Hagrid's new darlings; Blast-Ended Skrewts.

I have no desire to go anywhere near those fuckers. Their shell is stupidly thick and they shoot fire out of their asses.

I wonder for a second about Hagrid's thought process and how he reached the conclusion that fire-shitting Skrewts were a cool idea.

I look around me for an idea on getting over this little challenge without having to go through those things. Over. That's an idea.

I consider turning into my animagus form for a second but I discard that idea as soon as it comes. This is supposed to be a test of magical prowess and while animagus transformation is a talent all by itself, it's not exactly original. I vaguely remember a story about three brothers who had to get past a dangerous river.

A bridge then? Yes.

I draw my wand and use the various rocks and boulders around to build myself a temporary bridge and cast an Immobilisation charm to keep it in place. The other side of the small valley is sixty feet away, so it takes me four minutes to build the bridge and walk over it.

I realise I can't hear the crowd anymore. There must be a Voice-Nullifying charm surrounding the pitch to allow the champions to focus. Good idea.

I can see the Hungarian bastard now. It's weird; I couldn't see it a minute ago. An enchantment of some sort then. Doesn't matter. It's not related to the task at hand.

I look at the dragon and consider my route. The dragon is in the middle of a rocky landscape that is two-hundred feet long and a hundred and eighty feet wide. Sun is to my right which is where I will be going. The Dragon and its nest are in the centre, and I can see the golden egg with five dragon eggs the beast is ready to protect with its life. She's lucky I don't intend on testing her commitment.

No, of course I'm not polishing my own wand. I can so totally take on the Dragon. I'm in a good mood is all.

If I'll go right, the Dragon must go left which is where the entertainment should be.

I start by building a wall on the right side of the pitch from the boulders nearby. That will be my cover. I leave the boulders between me and the nest untouched to cover for my little spy's movements.

It's showtime. The Dragon hasn't made a move yet other than eyeing me with obvious hunger. I twirl my wand and turn to the left side of the pitch. I start a complicated series of chants and dance around with my wand. Illusions are a branch of magic that fell into obscurity because they have little use other than creating a show but I know the value of good visuals so I spent many a night studying and practicing.

My casting takes five minutes to finish but those two minutes are well spent. The Horntail isn't looking at me anymore. She's focused on the five men standing on the left side of pitch with their instruments.

I give another wave with my wand and AC/DC start their first live concert to the magical community of Britain with their hit song, Highway to Hell. I think it's theme appropriate what with the beast in front of me being capable of unleashing hell through her mouth.

One thing to know about Dragons, all Dragons, is that they are extra sensitive to noise which is why I chose this song.

The dragon gets agitated and slowly moves toward the band. I keep myself low and transfigure a nearby boulder to a thirty feet, light brown snake. The snake's job is simple. It will slither his way to the nest and swallow the golden egg, and its colour will make it harder for the Dragon to spot its movements.

I give another wave and colourful sparks and flashes erupt around the band to allow the snake's movements go unnoticed.

Did you know a dragon's' eyes can see even the smallest movements? That's why disillusionment rarely works great against dragons. That's also why I'm doing the whole light show. While the dragon's eyes are sensitive to movement, they react violently to bright colours which means she will focus completely on the left field which will cover for my snake's and my movements.

That done, I run behind my cover wall and crouch. A glance at the stands tells me the crowd is obviously enjoying themselves, especially the Muggle-borns who know the song. Good. The better the show I present, the more points I will get.

I may not have joined the competition willingly, but that doesn't mean I will give anything but my best performance.

The song ends just as my snake nears the nest. Dragon is already spouting fire left and right at the band members which doesn't hurt them at all because they are nothing but a colourful light show but I can feel the heat even from behind the wall as sweat pours out of my body. Another wave of wand and another song starts. Back in Black this time because I'm a Black as much as a Potter. Another wave and a new light show ensue to keep the dragon's attention solely on where I want it to be.

This is going great.

I make my way to the end of the wall and wait for my snake there. The snake slithers to me slowly but I am not in a hurry so I wait as I enjoy the song and the crowd's appreciation. Hurrying means mistakes and as long as the dragon continues to focus on the band, I need not take the risk. Just as the song ends, my snake reaches me and... pukes my egg out.

Good boy.

I am far enough from dragon to be safe so I cancel the illusion and give a small bow at the silent claps of the spectators. Illusion spells are a bitch to maintain and I have no intention of wasting my strength on them when I have no idea what lies ahead. Bagman seemed to find whatever it is funny which means it's either not funny at all or completely redundant.

I stroll forward with my snake in tow. I like this snake. It gives me the shiniest of gifts.

It was a good idea to keep the snake because the 'surprise' beast is an ashwinder. Ashwinder's are class three beasts. Which means they should be no trouble for me at all. Still, there is no need to get my hands dirty dealing with it.

I apply an Impervius charm on my snake and send it to attack the ashwinder. The charm should be enough to protect it from ashwinder's heat. As they fight, I amble towards the duo and throw a cutting curse to kill the fiery beast. That done, I kneel to scoop up the two smaller eggs, opaque.

That was a mistake. I forgot to account for the heat so my hand burns a little just as I touch it.

Shit. There goes my promise to survive unscathed.

I apply a Flame-Freezing charm on both my hands and the eggs, conjure a basket and pick it up, successfully this time.

The moment I pick up the eggs, I hear the crowd roar in approval. I peer the judges from above my glasses and make eye contact with Dumbledore. He smiles at me proudly. It feels good to make the old man proud.

I give him a nod and walk into the medical tent. Poppy is immediately all over me. I could just tell her I'm fine but she wouldn't believe me so I let her do her thing.

"No injuries," she comments, unbelieving.

"Why would I be injured?" I ask her as if she's being daft. "What? The Dragon? Oh, she was a sweetheart." I flex my hand. "My hand was a little singed, but I applied a Flame-Freezing charm which should take care of it fine," I tell her when she still looks disbelieving.

"Fine. Go on then," she orders me.

"How are the others?"

"Not as healthy as you but the worst case was Miss Henningsen. She was exposed to Dragon fire for a short moment but that's nothing a couple days in the infirmary won't solve. Now go. The judges are waiting for you to announce the scores."

"Thanks."

I transfigure my awesome robe to a more 'normal' version of itself, drop the long beard, hair and glasses, and walk out of the tent to see the other champions waiting for me. Poppy was right. They are all worse for the wear but nothing too serious. Cedric and Britt won't enjoy looking in the mirror for a week while Aimee won't be using his left hand at dinner tonight.

I give them a grin and ask, "did you all enjoy the show?"

Fleur's eyes narrow, Krum looks at me with blank eyes and Britt doesn't care at all while Cedric and Aimee smile at me.

"You did well out there, Potter," Cedric praises. He points to left side of his face. "Better than me at any rate."

"Thanks, mate." I wink at him. "I guess your fan club will be a little upset."

"Yeah. I'm guessing they'll be part of your club now," he says unashamedly.

My eyes widen in fear. Oh god, no. "Tell me I don't really have a fan club."

He can't tell me that because Bagman interrupts our conversation. "Now that all the champions have completed their tasks, it's time we turn to the judges for the scores," he announces.

"First is the lovely Miss Aimee Beaufort who conjured three large birds to attack and distract her Dragon while she stole the eggs."

Madame Maxime gives her nine, followed by Karkaroff's six and Dumbledore's eight. Crouch gives her a seven and an Asian man gives her another eight. That makes thirty-eight points in the first task.

The Asian man is a representative from ICW. I'm told a different representative will be the fifth judge for each challenge.

"Next up, we have Cedric Diggory of our own Hogwarts. He distracted his dragon by transfiguring a boulder to a large dog. He got his egg with little problems but couldn't keep from being burned after the fact. Let's see what the judges thought of his performance."

Cedric gets an seven from Maxime, a six from Karkaroff, another eight from Dumbledore, another eight from Crouch and yet another eight from the judge from ICW. Thirty-seven, not bad.

Another six from Karkaroff. That's funny.

"Let's see the scores for Viktor Krum, the Quidditch star, who attacked his dragon with a series of conjunctivitis curses while dodging the dragon's attacks with a great show of agility. He successfully blinded the dragon who, sadly, fell on her own eggs, breaking them."

Okay, this is ridiculous. Krum gets six from Maxime and Dumbledore while the ICW judge gave him a seven, Crouch an eight, and Karkaroff a ten- a freaking TEN-. Krum's total for the first task is thirty-seven.

"Our fourth champion is Miss Britt Henningsen. She attacked her dragon head-on with an impressive array of powerful spells. She successfully pushed the dragon away from the nest but got burned in the process. What did our judges think about that?"

Britt's scores are a little more steady than the rest. She got six from everyone except Karkaroff who gave her a… ten. Thirty-four points.

"Next up, we have beautiful Miss Fleur Delacour who successfully charm her dragon to sleep with a beautiful lullaby and was second fastest to finish."

Fleur must've done well because she gets the highest score so far with forty-three points. A ten from Maxime, three nines from Dumbledore, Crouch and the ICW judge and a six from Karkaroff.

Sigh. Do I even need to point out?

"And finally, our own Harry Potter put on a great music show to distract the Hungarian Horntail and conjured a snake to steal his egg. He was the fastest to complete the task with sixteen minutes. Let's see what our judges will score him."

Wow. I knew I did great but it must have looked a lot cooler than I thought because I get straight tens from four of the judges - do I even have to say which judges? - and a seven from Karkaroff. That gives me forty-seven points.

"There we have it, folks. Great performances all around. For the next challenge, our champions will have to figure out the clues from their eggs to prepare. The challenge will take place in January fourteen. I suggest everyone ready their raincoats by then."

Seeing Crouch glare at Bagman, I think he let something slip. Hm. Interesting.

-HP-

I walk out of the stadium and am hit by a bushy-haired missile. "Merlin, Hermione! You aren't as light as you used to be. You can't just jump on me like this."

"Shut up, you prat." She laughs and hits me in the shoulder. "You were great out there, Harry. Though your choice of music leaves a lot to be desired."

"And pray tell what's wrong with the songs I picked?"

"Highway to hell? Really? You couldn't pick more cliche song if you wanted to." She snickers.

"But Sis, wizards and witches, do you really think they had any idea how popular that song is?"

"What was that with the Dumbledore costume?"

"Dunno. They gave me this ugly tracksuit to wear. No way in hell I was going to wear them so I had a little fun," I answer with a shrug.

"That was disrespectful."

"Albus didn't seem to think so."

"Harry!" I hear a yell and turn to find Rita making her way towards me.

"Hi, Rita."

"Do you mind answering a few questions for my readers?"

Huh. Isn't she a sweetheart with her respect for boundaries and all?

"Not at all. Go ahead."

"You received the highest score today. What do you think your chances are going forward?"

"I am going to win. That has nothing to do with chance," I respond with absolute surety.

"You put on a great show today, showing not only your prodigious talent but a refreshing ingenuity. What was your thought process?"

"Well, I really didn't want to deal with the Blast-Ended Skrewts so I went over them. The dragon... well there was no fucking way I was going to go near that monstrosity so that left me with the choice of luring him away with a distraction."

"What about your choice of music? Young Mr Creevey tells me both songs were popular Muggle songs."

"I needed something distracting, something loud. Why I chose Muggle? Because I love their music." Only after finishing I realise what she said. "Colin? You watched the task with Colin?"

"We have a deal. I wanted to honour that." She nods. "You got forty-seven points today. What do you think you could have done better to get full points?"

I consider lying for a fleeting moment but decide not to. "Nothing. The only reason Karkaroff gave me a seven instead of a ten is he is an unfair and biased judge. It's clear when you compare the points he gave to the champions to what other judges gave us. Don't misunderstand me, Viktor is a very talented wizard but I can't help wonder why none of the other judges thought his performance was worthy of a ten."

Rita looks at me like she would give me her first-born son. I guess I was controversial enough for Miss poison-pen's tastes. "That's it for my questions about the task. I have a few more questions. Do you have a girlfriend?"

I give her a cheeky grin. "Why? Are you planning on trying your luck?"

"Still not a paedophile, Harry. Answer the question."

"No, I don't have a girlfriend."

"Do you have anyone in mind? Anyone you are interested?"

"There is one name that comes to mind but I shall keep that information to myself for the moment."

Her lips curve up in a predatory smile. "Could this girl be someone you know intimately? Maybe someone you saved from a troll?"

I laugh and turn to a red-faced Hermione. "What do you think, Hermione? Want to be my girlfriend?"

"Ew."

I turn back to Rita. "There goes your answer. Hermione is my sister in all but blood. I love her too much to let her date me."

Rita gives up. "You won't tell me who it is you are thinking, will you?" I shake my head. "Okay, then. Tell me about your tattoos. Why so many of them and what do they mean to you?"

I guess Colin's purse must feel heavy if he's willing to risk my ire by selling my almost-naked pictures. I smile sweetly. "The ones over my heart are representations of my family. Stag represents my father, he was an animagus. Lily represents my mother, obviously. Dog represents my godfather, Sirius. Wolf represents my uncle, Remus. Cat represents Minerva McGonagall and the glasses on the cat represents Albus."

"On my right arm, the basilisk and the phoenix represent my closest brush with death yet. The blue fox on my left arm is my familiar, Puck." I turn serious and give her a meaningful look. "The ones on my back are all the living things I had to kill so far."

"Oh."

"I'm going to go, now."

"It was a pleasure, Harry. Great job on the task!"

"Thank you, Rita." I give her a leer and add, "I aim to please."

Hermione and I continue our way with Rita's laughter ringing behind us. We walk in an uncomfortable silence for a while. It's never fun to talk about the tattoos on my back. Especially when you consider I am a fourteen years old boy who have marks for seven deaths. That's a death every two years.

"Do you think it was a good idea to talk about Karkaroff like that?"

"You saw the point board, did you not? If he doesn't want people to claim he's biased, he shouldn't be so obviously biased." I give her a pointed look to stop her from continuing on the subject. "Now, come on. I'm betting there is a party waiting to happen in the common room."

She turns away from me with a faint blush.

"Oh, come on. Did you really think I wouldn't guess? We both know our housemates change opinions as often as they change their underwear. Every other week."

"Wizards really should learn to be a little more sanitary," she sniggers.

"Be glad you don't have to sleep in the boys' dormitory," I chuckle.

"Harry, you don't sleep in the boys' dormitory either. You have your own room."

"I had to put up with Ron's snoring for almost two years, haven't I? I earned that room," I sniff.

"But other boys our year haven't?"

"I am awesome. They, however, are not."

- Flowers for Your Grave -

Chapter 3: Potential

November 28, 1994

"Come in, Harry, sit," Dumbledore orders me kindly. "Would you like a lemon drop or a cup of tea?" He's sitting behind his desk with Snape and Moody behind him on either side like sentinels. Karkaroff is in front of the desk to the opposite of where the headmaster points for me to sit.

"No, thank you, professor. Why did you ask me here?"

He looks at me over his half-moon glasses pointedly but it's not him that answers my question. Instead, Karkaroff opens his face-rectum. "I think you know why you are here, boy. How dare you accuse me of nonsensical things?"

"And pray tell, what part of my accusations were nonsensical?" I ask dryly. "All I did was point out the inconsistencies with the points judges gave. I mean Krum deserved a ten, but I got a seven? Really?"

"You showed your cowardliness while my champion handled the challenge head on," he spits.

I can't help it, I laugh. "Oh, that's rich coming from you."

He looks at me with narrowed eyes. Moody gives me a small smile while Snape has his usual poker face. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I think we are getting sidetracked," Dumbledore cuts in before I can say anything.

"No, Albus, I believe we are not." I shake my head. "Tell me, Karkaroff, how is the arm? Does it itch where he branded you?" My tone reflects my disgust perfectly.

His eyes flash dangerously. "You know nothing of what you speak."

"Oh, but I know how many Death Eaters you named while pissing in your pants simultaneously." Moody laughs without a shame while Karkaroff looks like he smells bad cheese. "You, Death Eater Karkaroff, are a coward, not me. I am smart. Smart enough to avoid fighting a Dragon if I can. I am smart enough to beat your star student and every other champion in this tournament."

He wants to say something back but hesitates. Instead, he turns to Dumbledore. "Are you going to let this spoilt boy disrespect me, Albus? What kind of school are you running here?"

Albus looks at him piercingly. "I don't tell my students what to think or what to say, Igor. Surely, you can understand a young man's desire to respond to verbal attacks from adults," he says warningly.

"I won't let this stand!"

"What are you going to do? Judge me unfairly?" I laugh.

Karkaroff walks towards me. "It seems you need to be taught a lesson, boy," he spits threateningly.

I don't move at all. I raise both arms invitingly. "Go on, then. Teach me a lesson. I'm game if you are. Give me a time and a place and I will be there."

"That's enough," Albus interjects angrily. "Karkaroff, Harry may voice his opinions in any way he sees fit, even to criticise the judges of a tournament he's being forced to perform in. I will not have you threaten my student."

The coward turns to Albus. "This isn't over, Dumbledore," he warns and swiftly walks out of the office.

Albus sighs and leans back in his chair. "Harry, must you antagonise everyone you dislike?" he asks in a tired voice.

"I am not you, Albus. I don't have forgiveness to spare for liars, criminals and idiots who can't face the truth. We both now he was biased. Hell, he knows he was. I am being honest. Nothing more, nothing less."

"You must learn to be cautious, son. One day, you may anger someone you are not ready to handle," he warns me, knowing it won't change a thing.

I give a small, respectful bow, knowing the wisdom of his words even if I don't have it in me to hold my tongue. "Thank you for the advice."

"You can go now, Harry. Please take heed of my words."

"I'll try. Thank you, sir."

-HP-

December 1, 1994

"Did you watch them all?" asks Sirius as I walk in the classroom Albus assigned us for my training.

"I did."

"What do you think?"

"I looked awesome!" I jump up excitedly, a big grin on my face in celebration of my performance.

Remus rolls his eyes and pushes me to a chair. "He's asking about the other champions."

"Well, Viktor is fast. He will be hard to pin down. Cedric and Aimee won't be too much of a problem to deal with. Fleur didn't really show her potential. Britt will be the real challenge though. She has a wide repertory and most experience," I summarise.

"We knew these things already, Harry. We are trying to teach you how to read your opponent. Tell me, what move they will make? What style they will favour? Which ones are more likely to dodge than to shield? Who will make the first move?" Sirius asks.

I think about it for a second. "Well, Viktor is self-assured. He wants to win, and he wants to prove he's the best. He will definitely prefer attacking first and using flashy spells instead of effective ones."

"Good," Sirius says, nodding. "What about the girl from Durmstrang?"

"She's a fighter through and through. I bet she can give you guys a hard time. If I want to win against her, I have to surprise her. I'm not sure what else there is to say."

"She has a good grip on her wand," Remus comments. "Her wand movement had no useless motion, and she didn't use a spell she knew would be ineffective. She relied fully on hexes and curses though. Didn't use transfiguration or charms at all. What does that tell you?"

"That she will do something similar in the duel. She's not good at thinking on her feet, though she probably knows how to build quick, three-step plans. Like I said, I'll have to keep her off balance."

"Yes." Sirius nods. "What about the French beauties?"

"Hey there, now. They are too young for you and you know it." I raise an eyebrow and smile sweetly.

"Harry, focus," Sirius says all too seriously.

Some people can't take a joke I guess.

"Okay, okay. Fleur moves like she's walking on water, swiftly but delicately balanced which means if I create an uneven ground, I can sweep her off her feet." It's all can do at the moment. I can't help it if I was too distracted by Fleur's... Anyway, I was too distracted to really analyse Fleur's style.

"That's good but not enough. Come on, Harry. What did you see in the pensieve?" Sirius asks me with a growl.

"I don't know, okay. I was too distracted," I confess.

Sirius and Remus look at me oddly for a second before laughing.

"It's not funny," I shout embarrassedly. "She's just so... I don't know."

"So, you still not over what happened after your birthday?" Sirius asks me with a smile.

"I... Yes, I'm not. Happy?" I concede. "I can't stop thinking about her."

Sirius regards me for a second. "Harry, when a young man reaches a certain age, he gets these urges..." he begins before laughing again. I can see Remus is fighting a losing battle.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate you guys?"

"Yeah, like ten minutes after Fleur left," Sirius says while laughing intermittently.

"Well, I hate you so much saying it once is just not enough."

Remus is the first to return to normal. "How is that going?"

"Not good. She rarely acknowledges my existence in public. But when we are alone, she's sweet," I answer truthfully. "Even human. She acts like a real person without the observers. I asked her out. She said no."

Remus looks at me sadly. "It happens, kid. You win some, lose some."

"Yeah," Sirius says with a nod. "You should forget about her and find a new girl for yourself. What was the name of that girl in Gryffindor? The one who can ride a broom really well?"

"You really need to get your mind out of the gutter, Sirius," I suggest. "Katie. Her name is Katie."

"Why don't you date her? From what you said, she seems to like you a lot."

"Katie is great. She's just not..."

"Yeah, I get it." Sirius sighs.

"Enough about my love life, you sad, old men. How about your love lives?" I ask with a grin.

"I'm not going to discuss my love life with my godson," Sirius declares proudly.

"Because you don't have one," Remus points out with an innocent look.

Sirius looks at him like Remus betrayed him. "I was just too busy, you know."

We plunge into silence for a moment.

"Sirius, you know you don't have to put your life on hold on my account. It may have made sense to avoid a real relationship when I was small and my identity was a secret. I'm not small anymore and there is no secret to keep."

"I know, it's just..." he trails off.

"Yeah. Still, something to consider."

"Enough with the pouting, gentlemen," Remus says. "We are here to train Harry. Leave all that stuff for drinking night."

"Alright, where were we? Ah, yes. We'll discuss Fleur later. Tell me about Aimee."

-HP-

December 3,1994

I enter the classroom and dive to my left immediately when a purple spell flashes over my head. My wand is out and a Shield charm is on my lips before I can even take in my surroundings. Sirius is standing across the room with a maniacal smile on his face, the one that is always accompanied by pain and suffering for me.

I glance around for Remus but can't find him. Still, the smile on Sirius' face is far too sadistically for the werewolf to be away so I snap three stunners in my godfather's general direction as I move to the far wall of the room in quick strides.

The old dog responds with a pair of cutting hexes a few inches apart from each other but a summoned desk allows me to stand my ground without having to hunker behind a shield. The table breaks into three pieces and I banish a piece to Sirius while levitating the other two in case Remus joins the fray mid-cast.

Sirius blasts apart the large piece of wood in bound for his head and banishes the splinters back at me but I use the opportunity to create a wind to throw the pieces every which way. My move pays off in a barely audible ruffling of clothes from my left and three birds leave my wand immediately.

Before I can see the affects of my birds, a forest green spell hurries towards my midsection, forcing my attention back to the man responsible. The second large piece of wood takes care of the green spell but burns away and leaves me with no debris to use so I snap a generic chain of four spells to buy myself time.

Meanwhile, Remus turns visible thanks to one of my birds explosion upon hitting the invisibility cloak he's wearing, giving it a bright red hue. I consider summoning the cloak for a moment but decide against it as it hinders him more than it protects. What I need to do is bring them together so I don't have to worry about spells coming from two different directions but I fail to come up with something on the spot.

Remus joins the fray for the first time as Sirius expertly shields against my chain and sends a large stream of water my way. It takes but an errant thought for my last wooden shield to take the burnt- hah! Get it? Burnt- of the conjured water and I use the added weight to my advantage by transfiguring it into a dozen steel balls and banishing them to the yellow man.

Thanks to the distraction by Remus, I barely see the stunner and blasting jinx coming my way from the other side of the room and drop myself to the ground, the jinx singing my hair. I conjure a thin dome of ice around me as I roll on the ground and blast it away to all sides as I rise, forcing both my opponents to dodge and follow it with a fire whip as I twirl it around me.

My strategy keeps them on defensive for a moment longer but I made a tactical error when I dodged Sirius' two spells as I am now surrounded on opposite sides and I fail to keep up with spells on both sides for two minutes before a weak cutting hex splashes against my left leg, costing me my balance and the duel when a disarming charm slams against my chest.

I lay on the ground, panting as Sirius and Remus fix the room as much as they can after the damage the environment suffered. Neither of them look as tired as I am but I've come to accept that. Both have more experience than me, and they are more efficient in their casting. Still, I fought well against two older opponents who work well as a team and have come a long way from that first day of training.

Sirius pulls up a chair next to me and sits with a small smile on his face. "You did well."

It's rare for Sirius to praise my duelling, and not because I am bad at it but because he has high expectations of me. And it's easy to understand why when compared to how quickly I progress in Charms and Transfiguration. Duelling doesn't come as natural as those two pursuits, I guess, and I'm okay with that. I find the challenge exhilarating as I have to work doubly hard to improve myself.

"Before you say anything, I know it was a mistake to place myself in the middle. I should have considered where I would end up and cast a shield or taken the blasting hex to my left hand and used the opening you left to take you out."

Remus draws a chair on my other side, a gentle smile on his face as he looks down on me. "Both viable options," he agrees with a nod. "Which would have given you the best chance at winning?"

I consider for a moment before answering. "Depends on how fast Sirius would react to my sudden onslaught of spells. If I had taken the spell and failed to take Sirius out of the fight, it would have cost me my balance and would hinder my defence."

"True," Sirius agrees. "There is one other option you haven't considered still."

I glance at both men to get a clue on what other option I could have taken but their faces give me nothing. "I've not got the slightest."

"You could have redirected both spells towards either me or Remus. They were simple spells you have a good grasp on. I doubt you'd have trouble redirecting them given enough time."

Huh. That's… a great idea and now, I'm cursing myself for never having considered such a thing before. Still, you take the win; you take the loss; and you learn from them both.

"Then I'll be sure to kick both your arses the next time," I say, a cocky smile on my face, marred only by the obvious exhaustion. Sirius laughs while Remus raises a silent eyebrow at my bravado.

"Yeah, you do that, kiddo."

-HP-

December 4, 1994

"At least tell me you are studying."

The discussion is once again how irresponsible I am being by refusing to attend classes. Discussion may not be the right word here. It's more like Hermione is lecturing me on merits of learning while Ron beats me in chess.

"I am, Hermione. I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

"I still can't believe Professor Dumbledore is okay with this." It's easy to see how much the idea is puzzling to her from the cute frown on her face.

"Hermione, if I go to classes, compete in this tournament and train with Sirius and Remus, I'd burn out in a month. You know what happens when I am overwhelmed."

"I know, I know. It's just... you will fail your O. if you don't learn the fourth year material," she croaks, her eyes wide in irrational fear. Need I remind you that this is the same girl that once said we would get killed, or worse... expelled?

I can see how upsetting the possibility is to Hermione and can't help the warmth spreading across my chest. This is the height of Hermione's love, these lectures and rants. They are the only way she knows how to deal with anxiety for my sake.

"Relax. I can pass O. in Transfiguration, Charms, and DADA even in my sleep. I learn nothing in History of Magic anyhow. I regularly attend Runes and Arithmancy. That leaves Herbology, Potions, Astronomy and Magical Creatures. I don't care if I pass or fail in Potions, Astronomy and Herbology. I can study extra next year for Magical Creatures. Pawn to G6."

"What do you mean you don't care if you pass your O. ?" she shrieks.

Oh, boy. I can feel another lecture coming. "I don't. I will not take the N.E.W.T levels for them anyway. I have no interest in either of them so why bother?"

"Gah!" is her response.

"Good argument, Hermione." Ron grins. "Riveting, really. Bishop to G6. Checkmate, mate."

Yeah, I lost. What a surprise. "Must you make the same joke every time you win?" I groan.

"Yes, I must," he informs me seriously before we both laugh. "Another?"

I look at him stupidly. "No, I think losing twice in a row is enough for me."

"Hey, Neville." The redhead turns to the boy who is reading a book on Herbology with undivided attention.

"No," Neville grunts without even looking up from the book.

"You guys are no fun," Ron complains loudly.

"Forget about chess for a second, Ron. What are you going to do about the Yule Ball?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you are going to have to ask someone to be your date. Do you have a girl in mind or are you going to wait for someone with right bits to fall on your lap?"

"I dunno, the second option seems optimal. How about you? Are you going to ask Fleur like you said you would?" He gives me a wicked grin, knowing how much I feel conflicted on the subject.

I glare at him but answer. "I will."

Hermione sits on the armrest of the single chair I'm sitting and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Harry, are you sure that's a good idea? She told you she'd say no," she says, her voice is soft and kind and something else that puts me on edge.

Pity, really? It's not like getting rejected is the end of the world. Yes, I may be more than a little hung up on her but that doesn't mean I'd roll over and cry just because she said no.

"If she says no, I won't bother her again. And when she realises what a catch I am, she'll have to come to me," I boast vainly. She gawks at me and we share a laugh at the prospect of the haughty girl acting so out of character. "I found someone I like, Hermione. I have to try."

"Just... I don't get what you see in her," she blurts.

"I can," Ron interjects. "What? She's gorgeous." He doesn't even realise it when Hermione glares at him.

"She's also a cold, stuck-up b... witch," Hermione says in a clipped tone.

"Nice save." Ron nods.

"What about you, Hermione? Any boy you want to ask or get asked by?"

"Well... yes." Aw. Her cheeks are all red. My girl is growing up on me.

There is an awkward silence among us for a second or two where Hermione tries to turn invisible but the blood rushing to her face works to the opposite end. "Well, I wouldn't get my hopes up on that idiot. You know how emotionally constipated he can be," I hint, but said emotionally constipated redhead doesn't get it.

Shocker.

Hermione glares at me suspiciously. "You should stop talking now, I think," she grunts out between her teeth.

I smile at her innocently. "Why?"

"Because if you don't, I am going to disfigure you so bad, Fleur won't touch you with a ten foot stick." She scowls and not-so-gently massages my shoulders with her freakishly strong hands.

"I'll shut up now," I croak. She can be a little intimidating when she's upset and I'm conflicted on how I feel about Hermione being stronger than me to be honest. It's a blow to my fragile masculinity. Maybe I should carry a small library on my back as a workout?

"How about you, Neville? Who are you going to ask?" Ron queries. Neville looks around for a second, looking unsure where he is for a moment before turning to Ron.

"I'm not sure." What the shy boy wants is clear by the glance he not-so-subtly throws at Ginny who is in deep conversation with some girl… Rom… Romania or something. That girl gives me the creeps.

"Ron, let me ask you something," I cut in. "Ginny is growing up. She'll start dating boys soon. Who would you okay with her dating?"

Ron's cheeks redden and he looks at me heatedly. "She can't. She..."

"I mean, if she were my sister, I'd want her to date someone I trusted. Someone I knew would treat her well. Like you. Or Neville," I continue before Ron can spout something stupid and raises Hermione or Ginny's ire. "I mean think about it. Would you rather Ginny date someone like Seamus? Or someone like Neville?"

"I..."

"Neville, I think you should ask Ginny so she doesn't go with someone who might take advantage of her naivety." I wink at him.

"Yeah, please, mate," Ron says desperately. "Harry will ask Fleur and I'm not sold on blood purity enough to go down that road. You have to ask her."

"Okay... I mean... Are you sure?" Neville looks shocked and unsure. "Okay. I'll ask her but I don't know if she'll say yes," he says more confidently when Ron nods.

Hermione leans in to whisper in my ear. "Teach me how to do that."

"It's a trade secret, Sis." She rolls her eyes at me. "I'll tell you if you ask Ron to the ball."

"Never mind."