"What?" asked Frisk blankly, as Harry was swept off again. But the crowd either didn't hear or didn't care. Frisk wanted to shout at them, to get them to leave Harry alone, or at least just listen to him for a second. But she hated crowds, and before she could work up the courage, Harry shouted that he was tired, and he was going to bed.
Frisk watched him disappear up the stairs, and then looked around for Chara and Asriel. She found her siblings talking with Collin and Dennis Creevy at one of the tables. "Isn't it cool?" Colin said, almost bursting with excitement. "Gryffindor gets their own champion!"
"I wonder how he did it," Chara said. "I saw a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff stopped by the age line. I'm not even sure when he would have been able to put his name in."
Frisk sat down, thinking. "I don't think he did," she said finally. The others stared at her. "Do you remember what Moody said about eyes?" Frisk asked. The others nodded, staring over at her. "I saw Harry's eyes. They were wide. He was just staring. There was no excitement in those eyes, nothing that made it look like he got away with something. He said he thought someone was trying to get him killed."
"But," Dennis protested with wide eyes. "Who would do such a thing? Who would try to kill Harry?"
"I didn't get a chance to ask," Frisk said. "And I have no idea."
"A Death Eater," suggested Chara. "He's the boy who lived. One of you know who's supporters might be trying to get revenge on the person who brought him down."
Both Dennis's and Colin's eyes went wide at the thought. Frisk felt her breath catch, remembering the cruel wizards who tormented the muggle family at the world cup. "Under the eye of Dumbledore?" Asriel asked. "How?"
"I don't know," Chara said, "Maybe I'm wrong. I hope I'm wrong."
"Come off it," said one of the Weasley twins, from behind Frisk, causing her to jump. "He just doesn't want to admit it to the school, or explain it in front of Dumbledore. I wish I knew how he pulled it off, though."
"You saw him," Frisk said, once she'd regained her seat. "There's no way."
"Just means he's good at hiding it," the twin said, walking away again.
"That's what he'd do," Asriel said, watching him head back off into the center of attention. "But what can we do?"
"Yeah," said Dennis."If Harry's right, and someone is trying to hurt him, we should help him," he looked around at Frisk and his older brother. "How do we do that?"
"Why is everyone looking at me?" Frisk said, as everyone's gaze turned toward her. "Just be there for him. Believe him," she shrugged helplessly. "Keep your eyes open?" she suggested.
"We can do that," promised Colin, sounding excited. "If we can help Harry, maybe he'll finally give me his autograph!". Frisk sighed. It appeared the third year meant well, but he was so enthusiastic about everything. It was exhausting. They talked a little more before Frisk realized how tired she had gotten, and headed up to her own bed.
Frisk woke up late the next morning, and the common room was nearly empty when she got there. The two Creevy brothers were there again, and they waved at her as she went by. "Nothing to report!" Collin told her. "Harry's already headed downstairs." Slightly regretting telling them, Frisk made her way to the portrait hole and down to the still buzzing great hall for breakfast. On her way down, she encountered Asriel on his way to the library. "I want to find out everything I can about Centaurs," Asriel explained. "Since Mom and Dad are going to have dinner with them. If you're looking for Chara, she was just starting breakfast, She slept in a bit," He grinned. "You slept in a lot."
Frisk scanned the Great Hall when she arrived, but neither person she was looking for was there. Not Opal, whom she looked for first, not Harry, nor even Ron or Hermione. She thought for a second, and looked down the Slytherin table, spotting Steven, she headed in his direction. She was taken aback, however, by the sheer volume of nasty looks she got from nearly everyone else at the table.
"I'm not actually Harry," she said, attempting to placate them. But this didn't really help. Steven looked up. "Oh. Potions questions?" he asked easily. There were mild snorts by the Slytherin next to him. Apparently, they thought about as highly as him having a Gryffindor partner as her housemates did about her partnering with a Slytherin.
Frisk was taken by surprise, "Actually, I... " she looked around at the Slytherins who were making even angrier noises.
"I'll find you after breakfast," Steven said, turning back to his food. Frisk gladly fled the hostile atmosphere for the safety of the Gryffindor table, sitting next to Chara. The conversation around the table was still centered on the Triwizard (or was it the 'Quadwizard' tournament now?) and Harry Potter's participation in it. Frisk didn't add anything to it, she just kept her head down and listened.
When Steven came up, Chara joined them in walking towards the hospital wing. "Sorry about that," Steven told her. "Slytherin is feeling more hatred towards Gryffindor than normal. Nobody can believe Harry Potter got away with it, again."
"Got away with it?" Frisk asked, though she thought she knew where this was headed.
Steven gave her a slight smile. "Do you know what it's like, being a Slytherin? A lot of people think we're just sneaky gits. So people think everything we could do is a plot or scheme. I'm sure you've heard that Slytherin house had more accused death eaters than the other three houses combined."
Frisk hadn't, but Chara was nodding, she must have had heard something like that.
Steven sighed. "We don't get breaks. Then Harry Potter comes along, he didn't get punished last term for sneaking out into Hogsmeade; and now instead of being punished for evading the age line, he gets to participate?" Steven said. "I think Luna had it right last year. He is better at being a Slytherin."
"Harry said he didn't put his name in, though," Frisk said. "He thinks someone is trying to kill him."
Steven looked at Frisk, gauging how serious her face was. "How did he come up with that idea?" he asked. "I mean, why participate at all?"
"The headmaster said it was an unbreakable magical contract, didn't he?" Chara asked.
"If you put your own name in, right? If he didn't put his name in, it's not signing the contact is it?" Steven countered. "Besides. I'll bet you a sickle that he tries to win."
"I don't know," Frisk said. "I wonder if he's asking the headmaster. But, I mean, if he didn't put his name in, why would anyone else?" Frisk thought.
"He really does think like a Slytherin," Steven proclaimed. "Maybe he's even right. Or maybe someone just wants to embarrass him."
"I still think it might be a death eater," Chara said. "Trying to get revenge."
Steven opened his mouth to speak, looking upset, but Frisk cut him off. "But we don't know anything about them," Frisk said. "That's not what I was going to ask about, but you grew up in a magical family. Do you know anything about death eaters?"
Steven looked mollified. "No, I really don't," Steven said. "That was before I was born. But there's only two people it could have been, isn't there? The headmasters of Durmstrang and Beauxbaton?"
"There's Mister Bagman and Mister Crouch, too," Chara pointed out. "Or maybe one of the students? Working on behalf of the parents?"
They were at the hospital door. "That's not actually what I wanted to ask about. Have you seen Opal this morning? She looked really upset last night. I was hoping to catch her at breakfast."
Steven thought for a second. "No, I haven't. I'll let her know you're looking for her if I do." He eyed the hospital door for a moment. "Enjoy your time with Madam Pomfrey."
"I'm going to join Asriel," Chara said. "We have a star chart to work on, and I don't think the common room is going to be quiet at all today."
Frisk thought things were going to be normal in her classes, but she was very much mistaken. She tried on Monday to see Opal again, but it became apparent that her Hufflepuff friend was actively avoiding her.
But on Tuesday, she had Herbology in the morning. Opal would have to be there. They were supposed to be moving Mandrakes to bigger pots. Which meant Opal, who had gotten there before her, was wearing ear protection. And that meant Opal didn't have to pretend she couldn't hear Frisk, she probably really couldn't.
But even that went further, normally they would have worked together on the task of the day, but Opal was actively trying to ignore her. She'd isolated herself with the other Hufflepuffs, and was pointedly ignoring the Gryffindors, especially Frisk. When the lesson was over, Opal tried to leave quickly, but Frisk tried to go with her.
"Opal, what's wrong?" she asked.
Opal whirled around at her. "What's wrong?" she shouted. "Every time Hufflepuff has something go right for us, something happens to take it away. Quidditch, the Triwizard, everything! We're the afterthought, and it is not fair!"
"But I'm not Harry!" Frisk shouted.
"Does that mean you'll support Cedric as the proper Hogwarts champion?" Opal said, the taller girl bearing down on Frisk.
"I don't care about the Triwizard tournament," Frisk protested.
But that must have been the wrong thing to say, because Opal stormed away, a storm cloud still present on her face. Frisk looked around, hoping someone would be there to support her, but Madam Sprout had gone back into the Greenhouse, most of the other Gryffindors had headed toward the Great Hall. The only ones nearby were other Hufflepuff, and their faces were, if anything, more hostile than the Slytherins she saw on Sunday.
Lunch was a somber affair. Frisk wasn't the only one who'd had bad experiences with other houses. Asriel and Chara had potions the previous day, and that hadn't gone well. "We had managed to partner with the Slytherins before," Asriel told her to Frisk's surprise. She hadn't known they'd taken her up on that idea. "But not yesterday, they didn't want anything to do with us. And Snape was just being mean."
"We have flying this afternoon," Chara said. "I'm not looking forward to it. I can only imagine what the Hufflepuffs are going through."
A lot of the table had similar issues, but had chosen to band together against the others. Apparently, it was going to be Gryffindor against, not just the other two schools, but the rest of her own school as well. Frisk hated it.
But the worst was in her own potions class. It was worse because the attacks came from her own house. Steven had been her potions partner since she encountered him being bullied by an older Gryffindor. But when they arrived outside the dungeon door that Tuesday, Frisk and Steven were assaulted on both sides for their friendship. Slytherin and Gryffindor alike shouted at them for their treachery.
Steven was the one who snapped first. "Yes, you are my housemates," he shouted. "But Frisk stood up for me when she didn't have to. And I won't have any of you lot telling me who I can be friends with! If you don't want people comparing you to Dark wizards because we're in Slytherin, don't compare Frisk because she's in Harry Potter's house!"
The dungeon door banged open, making them all jump. "Well said, Mr. Marsh," hissed Snape, glowering around at the class. "And if I hear any peeps from this class about the Triwizard tournament, you will all regret it. Do I make myself clear?"
There was silence.
"I said, 'Do I make myself clear?' I expect you to respond," hissed Snape, even more impatient.
"Yes, Professor," they chorused.
But that wasn't that. Frisk could hear the mutterings, the grumbles. Frisk was still considered to be 'consorting with the enemy'. She couldn't hear the other side of the room, but she imagined it was the same for Steven. Frisk tried to ignore them, to keep her head down and her mind focused on Snape's potion instruction, but it was difficult.
When the class was over, Frisk intentionally waited until the rest of the class had left before she left herself. Steven waited with her. Just before she got up, Snape looked toward them. For a change, he was seated behind his desk, looking through a gap of corked bottles. This had the curious effect of making him eye level, more or less. "Do not let this change you," he advised, before looking away again.
Frisk and Steven looked at each other, but neither understood what that was supposed to mean, or even who he was talking to. They decided not to ask for clarity, though, and instead headed for the exit. "Thanks," Frisk said, as she reached out to open the door for him. "I hope you don't get bullied on my account."
Steven opened his mouth to say something, and apparently thought better of it. Instead he only said, "Cheers, Frisk. I hope you don't either." With that, they headed up the stairs towards their next classes. He was sadly prophetic.
Early that evening, after dinner, Frisk had come the common room, and parked herself at a table with Ginny, Asriel, and Chara. She had barely begun work on her potion essay, when she was interrupted by the deep, familiar voice, of an older student. "I thought I warned you about making friends with dirty Slytherins, Frisk."
Frisk sighed. "I don't want to talk to you, Cormac," she said, not lifting her eyes from her essay.
In response, Frisk's chair was tipped over from behind, and she fell, landing on her back with a muffled 'thump'. It hurt, not just physically, but in her soul as well, the person who had done that had wanted it to hurt. She looked up into the large, well built face of Cormac McLaggen, the same person she'd interrupted bullying Steven Marsh the previous year.
Asriel and Chara were both between Frisk and Cormac in the time it took to blink. Asriel's eyes were wide. He'd drawn his wand, it was visibly shaking in his hands. Chara had balled her hands into fists, looking ready to go after the fifth year. "What do you think you're doing, Cormac?" Ginny asked, angrily.
"Getting her attention," Cormac said. He looked down at Frisk, starting to pick herself back up. "You need to remember what house you're in. It's us against them."
Frisk climbed to her feet, aware that the common room's usual chatter had gone very silent. "It is not us against them. Isn't the triwizard tournament supposed to bring us closer together?"
"You've seen what the other houses think of Harry," Cormac snorted. "Has it?"
"No," Frisk whispered.
"There you have it," Cormac sneered. "Wake up, Frisk. You've seen how the school treats Harry, and you need to figure out who's side your on. With us, or against us. And remember who you share your common room with," He punched his palm a few times to be sure Frisk got the point. "Say you understand."
"You're threatening her," Chara said, stepping forward towards the much larger boy.
Frisk reached out, and put a hand on her sister's shoulder. "It's okay Chara." She was trying to sound confident, but as she looked around the room, everyone was staring at them. "I'm not going to let him control me. Steven is my friend."
"Our friend," said Asriel, touching his fingers to his chest.
"And I'm not going to let anyone tell me who my friends are, either. I don't care about the tournament, my friends are more important." Frisk stepped to the side, out from behind her siblings, facing Cormac directly. "So no. I don't understand. I don't understand any of it." She looked around the other students, then back at Cormac. "Are you going to try to make me understand?"
Cormac must have thought Frisk was going to just crumble, because he while he stared daggers at her, he made no move to carry out his threat. "You heard her," he finally said, looking over his shoulder. "She's not a Gryffindor. She doesn't understand what it means to be a Gryffindor." He turned back to Frisk, "Watch your back. Dreemurrs." He stalked away, up the stairs, to the boys dormitories.
Nobody said anything. Frisk wasn't sure anyone knew what to say. She picked up the chair, setting it upright, and moved to resume her potion essay.
"Isn't anyone going to speak up?" Ginny demanded. "No one?"
Frisk could hear the mutters, a lot of others must have gotten the cold shoulder from their own friends over the last two days. She didn't think that everyone thought Cormac was right, but enough did. And those that didn't still wanted to support Harry.
Over the next day, Frisk got quiet comments of supports from some of her fellow Gryffindors. But that was washed out by the looks she got at mealtime. The ranks had closed, and Frisk was on the outside.
She was one of the last people left in the common room that night, when she finally broke, letting the tears roll down. She had started a letter home, detailing everything that had happened that week. Tears stained the parchment. "I thought this triwizard tournament was supposed to bring us together. But it's broken my friendships with Opal, it's broken my relationships in my own house. What am I going to do?"
