Chapter 13

Harry Potter was pissed.

Generally it was a feeling he tried to avoid, but honestly, today was just ridiculous. He'd apparently offended a girl by being nice to her and was currently trying to avoid any and all females- mostly because they seemed completely psychotic.

Oh, and of course, tonight he'd be winning a rigged contest in which he would have to risk life and limb and try to find some way not to kill Longbottom whilst not getting his Adrienne killed.

He knew that teenaged angst was something to be avoided- but bloody hell! He deserved to be a little pissed at all this didn't he?

Why was it always him?

Okay, no. He just couldn't do that. He refused to turn into a fucking teenage girl.

So he'd be pissed.

Anger was much better than angst.

So by the time he skulked into Arithmancy he was certainly carrying an entire storm over his head. With hurricane force winds and lightning flashing and thunder roaring.

He threw Li Su a look that sent many a gang member running, and she gulped visibly but seemed to steel herself enough to glare back.

Hermione's mouth made a little 'o'.

"Harry- what happened? You were fine until lunch..."

Harry just threw himself into his chair and continued to glare at Li.

A hand touching his shoulder made him finally look at her, and she gave him an uncertain smile. "It wasn't Neville was it?"

Harry let himself snort mentally. Fucking Longbottom. He always seemed to be... the root... of everything.

Had he somehow put the HWA up to this? Was he too chicken to do it himself? But why kidnap that French... bitch?

It was really the kindest thing he could think of to say about her.

Which was sad.

The point being that he would have to find out whether Longbottom possibly had some kind of hold on the HWA. If he did then he'd have to put a stop to it. Meanwhile he'd just have to up the security on Hermione, Daphne and Millie.

Speaking of, he hadn't seen Daphne all day. Was she alright? Merlin- had Longbottom done something to her?

Panic clawed at his chest as images of Daphne's broken and bleeding body lying in some forgotten corridor.

Shit! How could he have been so lax?

This was all his fault.

He stood up and grabbed his bag just as Professor Vector- looking extremely harried- came rushing into the classroom.

"Harry- take a seat. We're going to be doing dungeon dwelling dim... I mean! Uh, differential equations. See how those things sound the same? Yes? Of course. Completely explainable that little Freudian slip... I mean! Erm, let's just sir down okay?"

Harry clutched his stomach and let out a pained groan.

"Oh dear! Are you feeling ill Harry? Then you'd better go see Madame Pomfrey! Don't want you collapsing again..."

Harry was out of the door by that time, and running helter skelter towards the hospital wing. It was as good a place to start as any, he supposed.

If she wasn't there he'd tear the entire fucking school apart to find her.

Because she was important to him damn it!

That thought should probably have given him a bit more pause, but he was far too frantic to grasp strange thoughts that flew through his head.

He threw back the doors to the hospital wing with a resounding crash and looked around frantically.

"Mister Potter!" Madame Pomfrey's scandalised voice rang out, but Harry was far too frantic to notice anything except for Daphne sitting on the bed the nurse was standing next to.

She looked pale, and her eyes were red rimmed from crying and she was hiccuping.

She was cute when she hiccuped.

Not the point though.

He strode over to her in concern, and her eyes grew wide as saucers.

"Mister Potter! What is the meaning of this? Bursting into the hospital wing like that..."

The nurse grew silent as Harry studied Daphne with a strange intensity. Then she let out a little huff of air, and moved towards her office.

Teenagers and their drama.

"Harry... uhm..." Daphne was looking at him with wide eyes, as he moved closer to her, inspecting her for any signs of damage.

"Was it Longbottom?" His voice was furious.

"What? No! No... it wasn't anything like that."

For some strange reason she looked immeasurably sad when she said that and Harry growled.

"Then who? Who did this to you? Because I swear to Merlin I'll rip them top shreds...!"

"Harry..."

"I'll rip them to shreds and make them into confetti for you to play with!"

Well, that was oddly graphic. Where did these feelings come from? Why was there this sort of ache in his chest when he thought of anyone hurting her?

"Who Daphne? Say the word and I'll make them pay! If this was Longbottom I'm going to shove his beloved broomstick up his arse before I rip him to shreds! I'll..."

"YOU!"

Harry blinked at her.

"It was you, you idiot!"

Harry reared back like she'd slapped him, and Daphne leaned forward so that her hair would hide her expression.

"You hurt me... because... because... Harry... it... I..." She'd promised herself she wouldn't work herself into another fit. Why did he have to look like a kicked puppy when he was the one who had hurt her by immediately hitting on that French Floozy?

He'd given her his cloak for Merlin's sakes'!

"... Me?" Harry whispered hoarsely.

"Yes, idiot. You."

"I... don't understand..." And he looked honestly confused.

Daphne let out a small huff of self-deprecating laughter. "Of course you don't, you prat."

Harry was still standing there, looking adorably confused and guilty at the same time and Daphne couldn't help a slightly more hysterical laugh from escaping.

"You really don't get it, do you?"

Harry just shook his head.

Well, Daphne thought, you always knew he was a bit dense. You should just have flirted like a slut- then maybe you would have had a few days before he left you for a real slut.

But now you have nothing to lose. Might as well go out with a bang.

And so, with her mind made up, Daphne Greengrass stood up and did the single most stupid, reckless, Gryffindorish thing she had ever done in her life.

"Harry James Potter- I love you." And then she pulled his head down for what was supposed to be a searing kiss but actually ended up being an awkward nose-bumping clash of lips and she ended up cutting her top lip on her own teeth.

"Daphne!" His voice was shocked when she finally let go of his neck.

"I hope you're very happy with that French Floozy of yours." She said and tried to make a grand exit.

It turned out to be a bit of a stupid thing really, because she tripped over his discarded school bag and promptly fell flat on her ass.

Great. Elegant. Way to show him what he's missing, Daphne. She thought, furiously swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

But when she looked up at Harry, she doubted he had noticed because he was still standing there and gaping at the spot where she'd been standing with his mouth open and a vacant expression in his eyes.

She extricated herself from the bag and turned to head for the doors when a hand closed over her wrist and she was brought in for a hug.

"Daphne." His voice sounded more hoarse than usual. And Daphne had to blink furiously to keep herself from crying into his chest.

Why did he always have to make her feel so safe?

And then there was a hand, gentle and warn, under her chin and it tilted her head up to look into those green green eyes. Eyes that were staring at her intently.

"Say that again." It was an order, really, and she was powerless to resist.

"I love you, Harry James Potter."

And there it was- something blossomed behind those eyes. Sheer wonder at her words, as though she had just given him the most wonderful gift in the world. And hope. The weight of the hope she saw blooming there had her gasping for breath.

And then there were lips against hers, brushing tentatively and softly as a butterfly.

"I think..." He rasped against her lips. "I think I love you too..."

BaB-HP-BaB

Letatsi gasped desperately for air.

She liked to think that she was fit, really, but the speed and distance she had run just didn't seem to want to mix with the sheer terror she was feeling.

There were a million questions running through her mind, really, but she simply couldn't seem to find a single answer to them.

She supposed the most important question was where she could go that the hooded figure wouldn't be able to get to her.

She needed a proper, powerful protector she knew. She daren't go home. The Figure could trace her and then it would all be over and her family would be in trouble as well.

What she needed was someone with no ties, someone who had no loyalty to anyone but magic itself.

She needed The Hermit.

Sucking in a bracing breath, she turned toward the northern borders and determined that she would sell her soul for the safety of her people.

After all, that was what princesses did.

In the real world, at least.

BaB-HP-BaB

Katie Bell smothered a giggle as she watched Viktor Krum, International Quidditch StarTM, stretch.

Angelina Johnson elbowed her in the ribs and made an exaggerated shushing motion. This made Katie giggle more, and Tracey reached out to slap her behind her neck.

Katie shot her a glare and Tracey merely stuck out her tongue at her.

They were currently secreted underneath the stands of the quidditch pitch, since they all had the last period of the day free. Tracey had been charged with taking photos of Krum for the enjoyment of the HWA, and Katie and Angelina had decided that they would suffer with her.

In the name of sisterhood of course.

When Krum went into a set of stretches that really made his ass look good in those tight pants he was wearing Katie went into another fit of giggles.

"Shut up!" Tracey hissed at her.

But that just made Angelina start to giggle as well.

"Oh for...! I should never have let you guys come!"

That sent both girls into another fit of giggles.

"Ooooooooh! Cumming! With Krum!" Angelina panted out between giggles.

Katie promptly fell to the ground and bit her knuckles in an attempt to be quiet.

"Gah! Angelina! Get your mind out of the gutter!" Tracey whispered in exasperation. "I'll never get photos like this..."

Suddenly Katie's eyes took on an evil glint. "You're right. The stands are in the way, aren't they Angelina?"

Angelina's eyes got the same glint in them and she smiled evilly. "Of course you're right, Chairwoman."

And before Tracey could so much as voice a protest the two girls proceeded to shove her out onto the Quidditch pitch.

With a curse, she turned to scamper back under the stands only to be met with the sight of boy standing between her and her safe haven.

He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Can I help you?"

Judging by his accent he was from Durmstrang.

"Uh, who, me? No, no! Absolutely not! Just uh... checking the pitch to see whether there are any... uhm... kids. Making out. Under the stands. But, uh, nope! Nothing! Isn't that lucky? I'll just be going then! Bye!"

"Wif a camera?" He asked, stopping her attempts to sidestep him by grabbing her arm.

"Well, yes. How else am I supposed to prove it to the prefects?" Tracey thought that was a genius idea, really. Good lying, she patted herself on the back.

"Really?'

"Yup. Hogwarts takes rules very seriously!"

The boy snorted at her. "Yes, of course."

"So, I'll just go now."

"I do not think so."

"Well too bad. I never asked what you think. Now let go of my arm."

The boy glared at her. "I know what you are doing."

"I just told you what I was doing."

"You were taking photographs of Viktor."

"Psh. No. What would give you that idea?"

"I know girls." He said simply.

"Oh yeah? Well I might be a cross dresser!"

The boy started at that and promptly released her arm as if burned.

"Ha- yeah." She'd started running before his hand had properly let go of her arm, though she couldn't resist a parting shot at him. "Try that on for size!"

She was a bit winded when she reached the doors to the castle, but she none the less felt rather accomplished at the fact that the boy hadn't followed her.

Smirking to herself she whistled merrily as she went to go wash up for dinner.

She was just too fucking good, really.

BaB-HP-BaB

Fleur Delacour was not impressed.

Which, all things considered, wasn't really all that much of a revelation. But still, she thought it was worth a mention.

They were currently in some clothing store and Madame Maxime was trying to find a suitable material for their new school cloaks, and Fleur was not impressed by what she saw.

All the materials were heavy and coarse and ugly.

Much like the country they originated from, she thought viciously.

A sudden movement outside the window caught her eye, and she turned to see what it was.

It turned out to be a huge, scruffy and starved looking dog.

Casting a glance at her schoolmates and headmistress she snuck out of the store, heading for the emaciated dog. It gave her a warning growl.

"Oh, you poor leetle doggy! Shhh, I weel not 'arm you... zere now, see? I am very friendlee." She said, slowly advancing toward him with her hand outstretched towards him.

The dog gave a low whine and sank down on to the ground.

"Good doggy! See? Do you want somesing to eet? Hm?"

The dog's tail immediately began wagging and Fleur let out a little huff of laughter.

"Well zen, let's see..." Her eyes travelled the single street of the backwater village and finally came to rest on a dingy looking pub. She shuddered at the thought of having to go into it, but a look at the dog and her resolve was hardened.

The poor thing really did look very hungry.

Her steps were light, and the dog followed as though her knew what she was going to do. A shove of her hand (which she promptly wiped on her handkerchief) and she was inside.

The dog, mercifully, stayed by the door.

"'Ello?" She said uncertainly to the bar maid.

"Hello dear! What can I do for you?"

"I want ze most meaty meal you 'ave." Fleur said.

"Hm, well... I suppose we have a stew."

"Zen I shall 'ave zat."

"Alright, then. Stay put dear. Can I get you a butterbeer?"

Fleur shuddered at the thought of any more butter in her system. "No sank you."

"Alright. I'll be back with your order." The woman went off to the kitchen and Fleur shuddered again when she saw the sparkly red heels the woman wore.

Honestly, was fashion sense some sort of foreign concept to these people?

It had to be, because there was no other explanation for their ridiculous get ups.

The woman appeared again bearing a bowl of stew and Fleur gave her a small smile of thanks as she paid. Then a customer called for the bar maid and she headed towards the rough looking half-giant man who had seemed smitten with Madame Maxime.

Fleur surreptitiously took her russian hat and transfigured in into a bowl, transferring the stew into it and letting herself out.

The dog was still sitting there, wagging its tail hopefully and she put the bowl down in front of it.

It attacked it with a fervour and Fleur smiled indulgently. She'd had a dog when she was younger, a proper Swiss Shepard, that she'd managed to befriend in one of the back streets of Paris when she'd gotten lost.

She'd been three and petrified, and so had the dog.

But together they'd managed to survive until the Aurors had found her, and she'd been adamant about taking it home. Her parents had given in, despite the fact that it was an utterly magic-less animal.

They'd been inseparable, and Fleur had named her Morgana.

Her parents had been uncomfortable with the name, but they'd let her be.

Morgana had died last year, and Fleur had been inconsolable.

Fleur had been moving closer to the dog during her musing, and now she reached out a hand to rub the back of its neck. The dog seemed perfectly content with this attention and wagged its tail.

"Aw, poor doggy. All alone 'ere. And no one to look after you." She cooed at it.

"Fleur!" Madame Maxime's voice cut through the moment. "Get away from that dog! This instant!"

The dog promptly scampered off at this.

"Dear Merlin girl! What do you think you're doing! That thing could be rabid! Come- we must get back for the dinner. They're announcing the champions there."

"Yes, Madame." Fleur said, her eyes still on the corner that the dog had disappeared around.

Then there was a firm grip on her arm, dragging her away. "You'll need to wash up before that- that thing is obviously filthy! Silly girl! It could have bitten you and then what? Think girl, think!"

Madame Maxime kept berating her all the was back to the school.

BaB-HP-BaB

Daphne Greengrass knew she was wearing a sappy, soppy, silly smile on her face.

But she just couldn't care less.

The Great Hall had been decorated for the Halloween Feast and it was all rather lovely and all the candles made her think that they should go to Madame Puddifoot's for their first Hogsmeade weekend. That's where all the couples went after all.

Couple.

She. And Harry.

They were a couple.

Daphne let loose a happy sigh.

"What are you so happy about?" Tracey's voice penetrated the little cloud of happiness she was drifting on.

"Hm. Life. I'm happy about life... isn't it wonderful Tracey?"

"Wow. Either you bounce back really quickly or Harry came to his senses."

"Oh, yes, Harry... isn't he just perfect?"

"I'm gonna take that as a 'yes Tracey, I just spent the entire afternoon snogging Harry Potter'."

Daphne giggled at this. "Oh Tracey- you're so funny."

"Shit girl, this is serious. Are you high?" Tracey asked with wide eyes.

"Yes, yes I am. High on life in all it's glorious beauty!"

"... Okay. Starting to creep me out here..."

Just then a dark boy slipped into the seat next to Tracey.

"You are not a cross-dresser." He stated.

"Oh, of course she isn't!" Daphne smiled at him.

"Daphne, shut up. Who says I'm not?"

The boy smiled at her. "I looked up the word in the deek-tio-nery. You are very much a girl- I can see."

Tracey snorted at him. "Wow. I'm surprised you know what a dictionary is. Never mind how to use it."

"I like a woman that can get herself out of, uhm, serious situations." He winked at her.

"I like a man that can recognise my brilliance. Care to sit next to me for dinner?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Daphne simply smiled at the two of them. How lovely, Tracey was getting herself a love interest. He was quite nice looking, really.

Though he had nothing on Harry.

As though summoned by her thoughts, Harry sank into the seat next to her, still damp from the shower he'd taken. He gave her a brilliant smile and she returned it.

Yup, life was rather perfect at the moment.

The arrival of Draco and Pansy with the Firsties signalled that all the stragglers had entered the hall, and so it was that the feast began.

Daphne spent more time mooning over her boyfriend than she did eating, though Harry seemed so lost in thought that he just gave her a few soft smiles when she squeezed his hand before disappearing into brooding silence once more.

He could totally pull of brooding silences.

He was so perfect.

She didn't even notice when Dumbledore got up to make his little speech. What use did she have of his speeches? What did the Triwizard Tournament matter? Other than that she'd be able to watch it all in Harry's arms.

It was going to be heavenly.

The sudden change of colour in the Goblet of Fire's flames caught her attention though, if only because Harry could look good even in that sort of lighting.

"The champion for Beaubaxtons is... Miss Fleur Delacour!" Dumbledore announced with a flourish.

The French Floozy got up and walked to the front of the hall, to polite clapping.

Daphne wondered whether she was the other woman. After all- if he was dating that French slut then she was the other woman.

Oh, whatever. She wasn't going to worry about that tonight. After all- Harry had said he loved her, so he was obviously going to break up with her.

No, for tonight everything was perfect.

"The champion for Durmstrang is: Mister Viktor Krum!"

The sullen looking boy waddled up to the front to more enthusiastic clapping, especially from Tracey's new friend.

"And now- the champion for Hogwarts is:"

There was silence as the Hall held its breath.

A piece of paper flew out of the Goblet, and Daphne was staring at Harry hard enough to notice the clenching of his jaw. A sure sign that he was under stress.

She took his hand and squeezed it, giving him a smile when he looked at her.

His smile was sickly and strained, but it was there and she rubbed her hand across his arm in a soothing gesture.

"Mister Neville Longbottom." Dumbledore looked surprised at this.

Silence met that statement. Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Mister Longbottom... Please come forward. Yes, come on. Through that door if you please..."

No applause met Longbottom's trek to the door. Then Tracey hissed, "That fucking arsehole! I knew he'd find some way into this... I just knew it!"

"Bloody buggering hell!" Teddy looked completely shocked.

Harry gripped her hand tighter and Daphne noticed that he was ashen. The entire Hall was now whispering in outrage and Dumbledore was looking at the door, deeply in thought.

And then it happened.

The Goblet changed colours again.

Another slip of paper was spewed from its fiery depths.

Dumbledore seemed to catch it out of reflex.

His face went white with shock.

And then he said the damning words:

"Mister Harry Potter."

HP-BaB-HP

A/N: Dun dun dunnnnnnn... Yeah. We all knew that was coming. Really.

Poor Daphne. Just when she thinks everything is perfect, something like this happens. Can their relationship handle this? I mean, it's only a few hours old. That said...

Uhhhhhh... I have absolutely no idea where that first bit of romantic schmoop came from. Honestly. I'm not a particularly (read: at all) romantic person. Are they throwing around the "L" word a bit liberally? I... don't know. Harry and Daphne seemed quite adamant about it. And the weird changing view point thing? It just wouldn't work otherwise. So I'm sorry. (Hangs head in shame).

Also, something that may bother some of my more observant readers- in the previous chapter I said that Prof Babbling had gone to see her paramour over the weekend, but now Harry has class (it's a Thursday in this story). Which means that I am following the dates of GoF but the days of OoTP. Why? Because the dates work in this story, but the days don't. So why is Babbling off with her beau? Because she has no classes on Thursdays and Fridays, so she has a long weekend (lucky witch!). So Harry was having lunch in his room, and the HWA kidnapped him during lunch period. Okay? Okay!

Three guesses who the dog is- and the first two don't count! :D

This chapter was a lot longer, but it was just too long. So I figured this was a good place to end it. So the next dream is in the next chapter.

Thank you for all your favs/alerts/reviews! You are awesome readers! So make my day and review! Please!

Coming up: Mika returns, Harry gets a fist to the face, an important news bulletin is announced and the Sotho Princess sells her soul. Stay tuned!