Standard disclaimer: It all belongs to JKR. Thank you JKR for letting us play with your toys.
I will continue to use the occasional song lyric in the story and will give credit at the time when needed.
This is the fifth book in my Slytherin Harry series.
Book 1: Harry Potter and the Muggle's Daughter
Book 2: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
Book 3: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
Book 4: Harry Potter and the Blood Traitor's Daughter
Book 5: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
If you haven't read books 1-4 you won't know what's going on. But the bonus is you've got four completed books before you even get to this one!
HARRY POTTER AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE
CHAPTER IV
Good… Wait… What?
Malala came out of the toilet and headed for the stairs. The summer seemed to have been a never-ending procession of garden barbecues. The kids were loving it, but she had to admit she was beginning to miss her own kitchen. She was also missing her daughter. Never once, before any of this, had she and David thought of sending her to boarding school. They had wanted to raise their daughter and hadn't exactly counted on essentially moving her out a good ten years before they had thought they might. But they had. She was gone for the better part of ten months straight and when she was home, they either went on holiday or spent most of their time at the Briar Patch. They had actually moved into one of the three cottages hidden behind the Fidelius Charm on Lily's property for the summer. It was a lovely cottage, but she missed her home. And she missed Hermione. She missed having her in their home. And she missed the son Harry had become.
Before they had left for Hogwarts that first time, she and Lily had shared their two children. Just as Lily's guest room had been redecorated for Hermione, her guest room had been redecorated for Harry. The two had evenly split where they spent the night. But as time had gone on and the whirlwind around Harry had grown to a cyclone it had just become easier to be at Lily's place. She wasn't complaining, not really. It was a good life they had. Ginny, Luna, Daphne and Neville were wonderful additions to the pair of her daughter and Harry. She loved them all. Luna, especially, was a wonderful girl and she was quite pleased Hermione was dating her. It was far too soon to think they might be together forever, but she did think Hermione would be hard pressed to do better than Luna for a wife.
It was a bit difficult to navigate sometimes though. Take sleepovers for instance. When your daughter was gay, allowing any girl, even one she wasn't dating, to spend the night in your house took on an entirely different meaning. And the pile of teenagers in sleeping bags on the floor in the parlour, well you had to keep a much closer eye on them. Thankfully though, even though four of them had paired off, those pairs showed few signs of letting their hormones run amuck. In fact, she couldn't be certain Hermione and Luna had even kissed yet. She assumed they had, but she'd never once seen them kiss; she didn't count pecks on the cheek. She smiled. They really were cute.
She walked past Hermione's room in the cottage and stopped in her tracks. The door wasn't quite closed and through the crack she could see her daughter was standing in front of Luna kissing her. Actually, it was a bit more than just a kiss. Luna was sat on the edge of the desk. Hermione was stood between Luna's legs, her hands resting on Luna's hips. She did note that at least Luna hadn't actually wrapped her legs around Hermione. But she did have her hands wrapped around Hermione's neck and tangled up in her hair as they went at it. To put it bluntly, they were snogging each other senseless.
She quietly pushed the door open. "Ahem," she cleared her throat. The two girls sprang apart.
"Mum!" Hermione gasped.
"Drat," Luna sighed, "I was rather enjoying myself."
"I – I – I—" Hermione stammered.
"Yes?" she asked.
"I, well, erm—"
"Oh, honestly," Luna said. She hopped off the desk and faced Hermione's mum. "I'm fourteen, she's nearly fifteen. You didn't think we weren't kissing, did you?"
"Luna," Hermione groaned.
"I won't apologize for kissing my girlfriend, Hermione."
"And you shouldn't," Malala said. "As long as things have not progressed beyond what I've just seen." Hermione went from scarlet to molten and looked at the floor. Malala closed the door. "Talk," she said in a voice that brooked no argument.
"We haven't done anything more than kiss," Luna said.
"Then why is my daughter refusing to look at me?"
"She's embarrassed. I should have thought that was obvious."
"Luna," Hermione hissed.
"Well it's true. You're embarrassed, and we haven't done anything more than kiss."
"Hermione?" Malala asked. "Ah," she stopped Luna. "Let her speak for herself."
"We may have been on the bed once," Hermione mumbled, refusing to look up.
"What was that?"
"We snogged on the bed," Luna said. "It was amazing."
Hermione groaned. "Luna, would you please stop."
"You snogged on the bed?" Malala asked.
"Yes, Mum—"
"She was on top of me—"
"—Luna!" Hermione shrieked.
"What?" Luna demanded. "She asked."
"Stooooop," Hermione hissed through clenched teeth.
"You want me to let you handle this?"
"Yes."
Luna shrugged. "Fine." She pulled an imaginary zipper across her lips, plopped herself on the bed and waited. Hermione glared at her. Luna motioned for her to get on with it.
Hermione shook her head, muttered something under her breath and turned to her mother. "We've kissed on my bed. Nothing else."
"I see." She tapped her fingers against her thigh. "Sit down, Hermione." Hermione slowly did. Luna reached over and took her hand. Hermione tried to pull away, but Luna held on and shot her a glare.
"Relax, Hermione," Malala said. Hermione looked at her. "It's fine, Hermione. I'm not really even mad at you."
"You're not?"
Malala sat in the chair. "I'm just concerned. And I don't really know how to handle this situation." She paused, but Hermione said nothing. "I guess, maybe, the best thing to do is to acknowledge certain realities of your relationship while treating this as if Luna were actually a boy." Hermione blanched. Luna pointed at her lips. Malala shook her head. "Not yet." Luna sagged. "The facts are, that while there is no concern either of you might become pregnant, you are both too young to engage in certain activities with each other. Agree or disagree?"
"Agree," Hermione said.
"Luna?"
She unzipped her lips. "Disagree." She zipped her lips again.
"Good… Wait… What?" Malala asked. Luna pointed to herself. "Yes, you."
Luna unzipped her lips. "Age itself has very little to do with it. Strength and maturity of your relationship is what matters. I would say our relationship is not really ready for more than kissing." She zipped her lips again.
Malala pursed her lips. "Good enough I suppose. And it brings me to the question of the day. How much do I trust you and what am I to allow you?"
"Allow us?" Hermione asked. "What do you mean?"
"Well, does it really do any good for me to tell you Luna can't be in your room? Will you not simply find somewhere else to be alone with her?" Luna nodded emphatically and gave a thumbs up. Hermione groaned. "Is she right, Hermione?"
Hermione tipped her head back to the ceiling. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation."
Luna unzipped her lips. "You did say you wanted to handle it." She zipped her lips closed again.
Hermione glared at her. "I'm going to kill you," she said through clinched teeth. Luna simply smiled and pecked her on the nose.
"That's enough you two," Malala said. Luna turned to her. Hermione glowered at her girlfriend for a second longer before turning as well. "Just please be careful," Malala said. "Pregnancy isn't the only bad thing that can happen from doing something you're not ready for yet."
Luna reached for Malala's hand. "I swear, Mrs Granger, I will never push Hermione for more than she is ready for."
Malala didn't miss the qualifying nature of Luna's statement. "And what do you think you're ready for, Luna?"
Luna held her eyes. "Anything she is," she said solemnly. Hermione looked at her sharply.
Malala took a slow breath. "And for how long will that be the case?"
"For as long as she wants me." From anyone else Malala would think it nothing more than teenage ramblings; she had been convinced she was going to marry her first boyfriend as well. But with Luna, well, she'd come to learn the girl was different. It was rather distressing to think, if this relationship ended, it would likely be because her daughter wasn't ready for the seriousness of it yet, but those were the facts and she very much tried to base her life on facts and not imaginings.
"Oddly enough, I believe you, Luna."
"I love your daughter, Mrs Granger. I very much hope it comes to pass that I spend the rest of my life with her."
Malala smiled. "I think Hermione would be very hard pressed to find someone better to spend her life with, Luna. Thank you, for being honest with me."
"Daddy always says, honesty is the best policy."
"Well, then, I would say he's a very wise man." She squeezed Luna's hand before letting go. She stood and pressed a kiss to, first, Luna's and then Hermione's crowns. "Be careful," she said, "broken hearts are nearly as messy as unplanned pregnancies," and left them alone.
Hermione slowly turned to Luna. She'd been stunned silent by Luna's professions and was only now coming around. "Did you really mean that?"
Luna leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "Yes," she whispered. She stood and moved to the door. "I need to use the toilet. Meet me downstairs?"
Hermione gave a shaky nod. "Y–yes."
HPHPHP
Two days before her birthday Ginny was eating breakfast with Bill and Charlie in their flat. "How many times do I have to tell you no?" she demanded.
"Sprite," Charlie tried. "My wedding's next spring. Are you telling me you're not coming?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Charlie. Of course I'm coming to your wedding."
"I'd kind of like to know you can behave before throwing the two of you together."
Ginny glared at him. "You did not just say that to me."
"Sprite—"
Ginny abruptly stood. "If one of us makes a scene and ruins your wedding it won't be me," she hissed.
"Ginny, please," Bill pleaded.
"Why are you doing this?" she demanded.
"She's your mother, Ginny."
"She gave birth to me, big deal," Ginny retorted. "When was the last time she ever supported me, or encouraged me? When was the last time she didn't look at me like I was a disappointment? When has she ever told me I did well at something? Tell me?" she demanded.
"Ginny," Charlie tried.
"Tell me," she hissed. He fell silent. There really wasn't anything he could say. "Lady Greengrass, Mrs Tonks, Mali and Mrs Potter have all been more mother to me than she ever has," Ginny went on. "And every one of them, every single one, has actual reason to hate me."
"That's low, Ginny," Bill said.
"I don't care, Bill!"
"Did you ever stop and think that maybe it isn't about you, Ginny."
"Exactly! It isn't about me. Listening to her apologize isn't about me. Having a relationship with her isn't about me. It's about her; assuaging her guilt, her pain, her suffering. Well I don't give a damn about her absolution. I've got four women killing themselves to be the mother she should have been and I see no reason to let her rip me to shreds again."
"Can't you accept she was possessed too?" Bill pleaded.
Ginny's nostrils flared. "I'll give you it made things far worse," she said a bit shakily. "And maybe we wouldn't be here without it. But I dare you to look me in the eye and tell me I wouldn't have been yelled at, punished and made to feel inferior for being sorted into Slytherin without it." Bill said nothing. "She wasn't being possessed; she wasn't under Compulsion Charms or anything else last summer when she was blaming me for what happened. I was inferior. I was weak. I was stupid. I should have known better. That was all her, Bill. She has always blamed me and you know it." By the time she was finished tears of anger were streaking her cheeks.
"Ginny we just want our family back," Charlie pleaded.
"Please, Ginny, can't you try," Bill asked.
"I already am, Bill. I'm reading the letters she's sending."
"But you're not writing back, Sprite," Charlie said.
Ginny stared at them for the longest time. It broke her heart to see the tears in their eyes and made her own tears only that much bigger. "I love you both," she whispered. "I love the twins… I love dad." Her tears slid down her face and dripped in fat drops to the floor. "I tried, you know I did. I'll admit, not all of it was altruistic on my part. But I followed her rules. I did my chores; I did Ron's. I gave Ron a broom that should have been mine and look how he's treated me. Percy, my marks, my study habits, my following of the rules at home. I'm everything he should love. But he still hasn't apologized for the way he treated me." She shook her head. "And her, other than insisting I would decide my life, what didn't I do?" She paused but they said nothing. "I'm sorry. I really am, but what you have to understand, the family you're trying to get back, for some of us, it never existed… And right now, it takes every bit of strength I have to be the person people who have actually given a damn about me the last three years deserve." She kissed each of their cheeks before moving to the hearth and quietly saying, "Lovegood Tower."
HPHPHP
Harry was sitting in his usual spot in the barn with Ginny crosswise to him. She was lying on her back with her head in his lap. It was quite late but with only three days before they returned to school he was in no hurry to call it a night. His current relationship with Ginny was a bit hard to quantify. It was nearly a month past his birthday and he honestly wasn't exactly sure what, 'Take me back to the start.' meant. He could hazard a pretty good guess, but hadn't actually had the courage to ask. Call him a coward if you like. But after two years of wanting, he'd simply been happy he could take her hand whenever he liked and not have her cringing away from him. Better yet, often as not, she would take his.
"Harry?" she asked, breaking into his thoughts.
"Hmm?" he answered
"Honest question?"
Harry blinked his eyes open and focused on her. "All right," he agreed.
"I'm not accusing or anything, and you've both said there's nothing there from the day we met, and I know she's gay, but you're so close with Hermione and you care about her so much, were you really never actually interested in her?" Harry opened his mouth but she cut in front of him. "Honestly?"
Harry closed his mouth and thought about it. Had he ever considered Hermione, even subconsciously? "Honestly," he eventually said, "no."
"Really?"
"Honest, Ginny."
"Do you think she was ever interested in you, before she knew she was gay I mean?"
Harry tipped his head, scrunching his face up. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't think so though. She crushed on Sirius for a while, but I kind of think she's always known she was gay. Her mum says she suspected it from the time she was four."
Ginny tipped her head in his lap, studying him. "Did you ever crush on anyone?" Harry blushed. "Who?"
"Come on, Ginny, do I really have to answer this?"
"Please?"
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head resignedly. "Mrs Tonks and Tonks."
Ginny giggled. "I should have known."
"Ha. Ha. Glad I amuse you."
"However did little old me catch your eye with all these older women about?"
"Actually, you're lucky I was only ten when I met Gwen," he retorted. "She did, after all, look about like what I imagine you will in another five years or so."
Ginny quirked an eye. "Her name was Gwen?"
"Yes."
"Short for Guinevere?"
Harry shrugged. "No idea."
"And she looked like me?"
"Sort of." He shrugged again.
"But she was older?"
Harry sighed. "I met her when we went to Disney World for my tenth birthday." Harry went on to tell her about the trip and how he'd developed a thing for a deck-girl by the name of Gwen. When the story wound down he looked down on her in his lap. "As long as I'm confessing everything, I should probably tell you I kissed Myrtle second year."
Ginny blinked. "Myrtle? You mean the ghost, Myrtle? The one who lives in a toilet at Hogwarts?"
"I needed answers," he defended. "She had them."
"Answers? Bloody hell," she exclaimed, sitting up. "You kissed a ghost to get answers about the Chamber so you could rescue me?"
"Erm… Yes."
She stared at him. "Anything else?" Harry flinched. "There's more!"
"I can only tell if you swear on your life to never tell a soul."
"Whom did you kiss, Potter?" she growled.
"Technically she kissed me."
"I'm warning you, Harry."
"Buckbeak didn't just escape," Harry blurted.
"Buckbeak? What the hell are you…" Harry cringed as she trailed off. Ginny was anything but stupid and he knew she was connecting the dots. "Luna! You kissed Luna!"
"She kissed me! And if you tell anyone we'll both end up in Azkaban." He closed his eyes and waited, sure he was about to die. Why on earth confessing had ever seemed a good idea he'd never know. When nothing happened he eventually cracked an eye open.
"Luna kissed you because you set Buckbeak free?"
Harry nodded. "Yes," he croaked.
She frowned. "But you were in detention the night he broke free. You both were. Wait a second! That's what she meant when she was talking about having an alibi. But if you weren't in detention then who was?"
"Does it matter?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "It's not that I don't trust you," he pleaded, "but if you don't know then it can't be forced out of you."
Ginny continued to glower at him. "She kissed you because you came up with some plan to free him?"
"It was horrible," he said. Ginny glared at him for another few seconds before her cheek began to twitch. Harry slowly grinned. "Seriously, she needs to brush her teeth or something." Ginny snorted. "Mouthwash too, probably."
She swatted at him. "That's my best friend you're talking about," she said with mock anger.
"Your best friend who kissed me," he countered.
Ginny laughed. "So you've kissed Gwen, Myrtle, me Hermione and Luna. Do I need to be worried about Daphne or Neville?"
"Urgh." Harry shuddered. "That's just gross. And what about you? Who have you crushed on? I think it's about time for you to confess a few sins, don't you think?"
"You wish, Potter. I have no sins to confess. I've never crushed on anyone. Nor have my perfect lips ever had the misfortune of kissing anyone but you."
"Never?"
"Never."
"You've kissed Neville."
"If the cheek counted you'd be dead, Potter."
"In my defense the only person I ever actually wanted to kiss was you."
"You wanted to kiss Gwen."
"You said the cheek doesn't count."
Ginny glowered at him for a moment longer before giving a great huff. "Fine, but just so you know, you owe me four freebies."
Harry raised a brow at her. "Fine, but you better get them out of the way before you kiss me, because I've waited over two years for you and when I finally get to, I promise, I'm not sharing you with anyone."
"Who says you're going to kiss me?"
"Me."
"Yeah?" she challenged.
"Yeah." He held her eyes and Harry was suddenly aware the air around them had become charged with something he couldn't quite name but rather liked. Ginny was also much closer to him than she'd been just a moment before.
"I'm good with that," she said huskily. Her eyes darted to his lips.
"Yeah?" he asked, leaning forward.
"Yeah." She leaned closer still.
His lips were an inch from hers when he whispered, "Promise?" She pressed her lips to his. The kiss was far more intense than the two they'd shared previously, and Harry felt something, he guessed it was magic, move through him like a wave. It was warm and light, and felt of peace, acceptance, surrender and possession all at once.
Ginny's hand came up to palm his cheek as she pulled back. Brown eyes met green. "Promise," she answered.
Harry bowed his head against hers. "Thank, Nimue," he breathed. He pulled Ginny into his lap. With her back to his chest he pressed his face into the back of her neck and just stayed there.
Ginny wrapped his arms around her waist, holding them in place and let go of everything. Harry had been right about one thing. When she'd made him promise before he kissed her the first time, she'd been asking for forever. She'd been young and naive and a lot had gone wrong. But if Harry had proved anything over the last year, it was that he'd meant it when he'd given that promise. He had bent, contorted, and twisted himself into anything at all she needed him to be to keep it; even going so far as being willing to cut his heart out and watch her walk away if that was what she chose.
Only she had found that wasn't what she wanted. Daphne had made her see that; when she'd told her to snog someone else. Through everything Ginny had never once considered anyone else. At least not as anything more than a way to hurt Harry and most of that had been due to Tom. But hearing someone else suggest it, well, even Ginny had been surprised at the vehemence with which she was against the idea.
The damage Tom had done to her, the amount of control he'd taken still terrified her. But he had told her truths as well. Ginny without the diary would never have simply let the kiss between Harry and Hermione go without confronting them. She'd have confronted them, the truth would have come out, and their entire second year would have been different. Tom had nearly killed her. Even after the diary was destroyed he'd continued to affect her, control her and make her question any decision she made. Harry, more than anyone, had stood by her. Oh, Daphne, Bill, Luna, a great number of people had stood by her as well, but not one of them had she pushed away like she had Harry. He'd taken everything, every bit of her pain, anger, fear, even her rejection. In return he'd given her understanding, compassion, acceptance and, dare she say it, unconditional love.
Ginny turned in his lap. "Just so we're perfectly clear, this means you're my boyfriend again."
Harry nodded. "Boyfriend and girlfriend, perfectly clear."
"Right." She nodded. "Perfectly clear. And you'll go to the Yule Ball with me?"
Harry grinned. "I'd love to."
"Brilliant." She stared down into his face before leaning in to kiss him again.
HPHPHP
Chaos at the World Cup
Bulgaria's win over Ireland in the World Cup final was ruined when revelers attacked one of the camping sites for fans gathered to attend the match. The Muggle owners of the land were tormented by revelers dressed in the garb of followers of the slain dark lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and had to be obliviated after being rescued by members of the Bulgarian Ministry.
The attack is a black eye against both Bulgaria and IQF. Bulgaria were only hosting the event due to a similar attack that occurred in England at a match between the Falcons and Harpies during the League playoffs. The IQF pulled the hosting duties from England and gave them to Bulgaria when it was felt England couldn't guarantee the safety of teams and fans.
Given the relationship between Bulgaria and Durmstrang Academy they were an odd choice as a substitute country for an IQF concerned with attacks by dark wizards. Durmstrang has long been known to have a much more liberal attitude towards the teaching and practice of Dark Magic and the Bulgarian Ministry is known to be a strong supporter of the school.
Lily set the paper aside. "We need to meet," she said.
"Amelia already contacted me," Sirius said.
Lily pursed her lips. "I've got a bad feeling about this."
"You and us, Lils," Remus answered.
HPHPHP
Draco Malfoy was not having a good summer. Come to think of it, he hadn't had a good year. Actually, it had been rather a long time since he'd had a good anything. And it all centered on Harry Potter. From the moment he'd stepped in Potter's compartment on the train to school way back in first year he'd been embarrassed, mocked, belittled, and generally all around been made to look an utter fool. Him, the scion of the most glorious of all the Sacred Twenty-Eight had been made to look a fool by a lowbred, lowborn, obnoxious halfblood! Oh, there had been moments of victory; Potter had served dozens of detentions because he had sabotaged his work in Potions. But anything at all of matter it was he, Draco Malfoy, who had come off the worse. It was now to the point first-years were openly mocking him; that little bastard, Osian Thwaite and his friends called him Roach to his face!
He had arrived at Hogwarts a prince and was now nothing more than the court jester. Even amongst his friends he was no longer being given the respect he deserved. Ever since he'd entered the compartment of Potter's little band of sycophants on the train at Christmas, Blaise and Theodore had distanced themselves from him. It wasn't much, but it was enough to know he no longer commanded their obedience. Even Davis, who was barely significant enough to be considered as more than a servant wasn't giving him the respect he deserved. He'd seen her laughing with a group of fourth-year Slytherin girls the day they had left the school. They had abruptly stopped when they noticed him only to start again the moment he turned the corner and was out of sight. Only Pansy, Goyle and Crabbe continued to give him the respect he deserved.
Now, Draco wasn't actually all the fool Harry believed him to be. He was actually rather intelligent. Or rather he would be if he stopped believing he was better simply by virtue of whom he had been born to. Sure Potter and his friends got better marks, but that was only because he didn't try as hard as he could. At least that's what he told himself. So maybe he was only half the fool Harry thought him to be. Or, maybe he was actually an even bigger fool than Harry thought. After all, who is the bigger fool, the ignorant or the willful? Either way, Draco did actually have a modicum of intelligence when he put his mind to it. And he'd been putting his mind to it since school had let out.
What he'd concluded was his position was much more precarious than he'd ever dared think. His mother was with his brother now. Orion Abraxas Malfoy had been born on August the 19th. The squalling brat was now just more than a week old. Mother and father were very pleased with this development. Draco was not. He only needed look as far as his grandfather to see the extent a younger brother might go to ensure he and not the older brother would claim the title of Lord Malfoy and all that went with it. Of course fratricide was frowned on a bit more now than days past, but that didn't mean it didn't still happen. One simply needed to be a bit more subtle than days past. Of course being killed by a younger brother was a rather small concern for him right now. But had he mentioned his own father, like his grandfather, was a second son as well? It was only by seconds, but in the wizarding world that was all that mattered. Draco had never met his uncle. Grandfather had been just as callous towards his son as his brother. Of course neither Draco's father nor his grandfather knew he knew the truth. Officially Dragon Pox had taken them both. Grandfather's journal said otherwise. If you wanted an indication Draco did indeed possess a modicum of intelligence, this, was, perhaps, the best indication of it.
He'd found and read Grandfather's journals and known better than to tell anyone. After all, what good would come of it? If Grandfather hadn't killed his brother and his own eldest son, then Draco wouldn't be the Malfoy scion. Bigger, stronger, more powerful, more cunning, Grandfather had become Lord Malfoy for those reasons. He had passed those genes to two sons and ensured the best of them became Lord Malfoy in turn. He, Draco was the next iteration and he'd be damned if he lost his inheritance or even had to share some small amount of it with whatever spawn his mother squeezed out.
Ever so carefully he set the bottle back in place. He quietly slipped out of the nursery and made his way back to his room. That was one problem dealt with. Potter and his friends, that was going to be more difficult but he had just the rube in mind.
HPHPHP
Author's notes:
Ahh, the best laid plans to start a book and then you get to the end and find the characters have given you the finger and done something else entirely and now you're left trying to figure out just what to do.