A/N: Hmm, apparently I am supposed to specify that I am interested in constructive criticism. I always assume that authors want constructive criticism, and something that I would like you to consider trying is opening the "Review" window in a new window before reading through this. When the window is already open, it is very easy to alt-tab to the window, and it means that you don't need to remember all of your comments until the very end, at which point in time they might escape you.
Also, I would like to thank Traveller and Perspicacity for pointing out where I screwed the pooch, and my betas for pointing out where the English language considered disowning me. Without further ado . . .
Wit of the Raven
Chapter Thirteen
It was cold for late October. The wind rushed past him, and he pulled his cloak closer to him. He wished he could cast a warming charm on it, but he figured he would need all of the magic he could get for the coming trial, even if his plan panned out. He looked at the clouds–judging by the greyish quality to them, there was a good chance it would rain. He resisted the urge to pull his arms in from his sleeves and clutch them to his chest. He was going to need hands for this, and it wasn't smart to let his sleeves get cold in exchange for a little heat for his arms. They would suffer for it in the long run if he did it. There was a feeling of smugness, all at once from within him, and yet not quite a part of him, but he ignored it. It wasn't unfamiliar. He promised himself he would ask The Vikings if any of them was an Enchanter. He could use some temperature-controlled clothing.
A professor with familiar dreadlocks walked out to the courtyard and sat on the chair, not visibly affected by the cold. He acknowledged Harry with a nod, and bid him to come over. "Hello, Mr. Potter," he said.
Harry walked over. "Good morning, professor," he said, preventing his teeth from chattering through sheer force of will. "It's cold."
"Really? I hadn't noticed." Shacklebolt replied. "You don't have a team?"
Harry grimaced. "I do, but they seem to have forgotten it. Three of us are from Hunter families, and the other two wanted shots at the bigger glory. The last figured it wasn't even worth her time."
Shacklebolt smiled. "To let your children attend Hogwarts requires a lot of money, whether through tutoring expenses or just Hogwarts' price tag. There have been small efforts to get together scholarships funds, but quite frankly, it's tremendously difficult to qualify for Hogwarts without paying a lot of money for education before it. Hunting is an extremely lucrative profession if you don't die. In a way, "the last" is correct. Statistically speaking, none of you have a strong chance." He nodded at a group of four that was coming in, wearing their winter cloaks and identical leather bags, and looking about themselves nervously, as if they expected someone to jump them before the start of the Game. "Of course, we both know that you're not so bad, so I firmly expect you to find a way to succeed, even without your . . . brilliant teammates."
"I'm working on it, sir," Harry said. "By the way, if you see a Granger, could you tell her I'm looking for her?"
Shacklebolt arched an eyebrow. "Professors can't help students in any way, shape, or form. You're not suggesting that I cheat, are you?"
"Of course not, Professor," Harry said. It wasn't such a bad problem, he could keep an eye out for her himself. He fingered the Circles he had in his pocket. He had three, and if worst came to worst, he could use the tracking charm that Hannah had shown him last month to find Granger. Bidding the professor farewell with a nod, he sat down on the undulating roots of a tree so that he was facing Hogwarts. Chances were, he would manage to see her as she came down, and he wouldn't have to find her after the Game was formally started. Of course, it would also mean that he would see his annoying teammates. He resisted the urge to nervously practice his Optomancy. It drained magic, and he suspected he would need all the magic he could get, if he wanted to properly show up his wrong-thinking friends.
It started to rain, and he saw some children, who had started out of the castle, fall back, covering their fear with the excuse of rain. This specific Challenge had been all that anyone talked about, since it was revealed in the past week to be the Hunter Challenge. Harry had initially been surprised by the reticence that most children had regarding Hunting related activities, but it made sense in a way. Hunters were only called in if there was something that anyone else couldn't handle. That meant that it was probably not simple to handle. As they had learned from Scamander, Hogwarts had stopped coddling its children two hundred years ago, and they knew it. The group that had gotten there first after Harry seemed to gain confidence, or at least the appearance of it, as others trickled in, either one by one or in pairs, telling jokes and laughing uproariously. He had a feeling it was all a front, but wasn't sure. He couldn't tell if they were all Hunters, since they were all similarly nervous. Harry didn't feel nervous. He knew there wasn't a point to it. He looked up into the rain. It was only drizzling, still no fun.
Neville walked in with Daphne, his hands behind his head and a wry grin on his face. She had donned a polite smile for the occasion, but it was suspiciously strained. He wondered if she was having second thoughts, and moved his cloak so that it covered a little more of his face, exhaling deeply into the fabric of the collar to heat up the air surrounding his neck, and to conceal his face. He thought he saw her glance in his direction and he didn't move, but changed the color of his eyes to brown. She didn't look at him again, and he wondered if the ruse had worked or if he was just paranoid. It was integral for the continued growth of the team for this to happen. They needed to see the error of their ways.
He checked the time again. He had sewn a circle into his sleeve whose only function was to display the time, and had powered up the external power supply sufficiently that he wouldn't have to push any magic into it for another day, probably. There were still a few minutes until the beginning of the challenge, but Granger was cutting it close. He felt the rain start to pour, and began to smile through the headache that seemed to grip his head every time it poured. He couldn't help it, he loved the rain. He hoped Granger wouldn't be scared off by the weather.
He didn't see her at first, and she seemed to appear, as if by magic, halfway across the lawn, her hood stuck to her left shoulder by the rain. Her face peered up into the sky, and she seemed to be far more relaxed than he had seen her in the past. She shook her head a bit, her short hair splattering rain drops everywhere, before she turned towards the group, and started to run towards them. Harry made to stand, but his foot slipped and he fell into the mud. When he looked up again, she had disappeared into the cluster of students. He scowled, and his headache seemed to lessen.
Walking around the cluster, he tried to find Granger, but failed. Most likely, she was invisible or in the middle of the group. It shouldn't have been so hard, given that she was the only one who wasn't wearing a hood. Regardless, he stopped looking for her when he heard Shacklebolt start to speak.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said. "We're not joking around anymore. This is the real deal. This is the first Hunting challenge of the year. And the weather's great." There were a few titters, and Harry irritably stared into the sky, the raindrops falling pleasantly onto his face. He felt a little less aggravated, but his headache returned with a vengeance. "This is going to be what we professors call a 'non-standard search and retrieve'. That means that it's going to follow the same old pattern of many of the challenges you had before, where you had to search something out and bring it back, but now, you have to search something out, beat it into submission, and then bring back an item. Understand?"
One of the children with the leather bags asked, "What do we have to bring back?"
"Maybe I'll get to that." There were a few more laughs at the boy's expense, and Harry wondered if he was shamefaced or still putting on the carefree act. "Any other questions?"
There was a small chorus of "No" over the pounding of the rain, and Harry wondered how Shacklebolt could get the normally pugnacious Hogwarts students to behave so nicely.
"Alright, you're trying to get a Golem's heartstone. There are more than enough Golems for all of you, just find one and take it out. Don't forget, points will be deducted if the heartstone is damaged, so don't use curses that are too powerful. You need to go there, and then return with the heartstone. And it doesn't count if the golem is lumbering after you. You will also be disqualified if I see you curse another student. That should be everything." Harry thought he had heard a brief spate of whispering, but wasn't sure–it could have just been the rain.
"Ready, set, go!" the professor ordered.
The group with the leather bags immediately split up, as did a few other groups, but several stragglers were left behind, surprised. "Wait, where are the golems?" one asked. Harry looked around for Granger, who hadn't left in the first Exodus, but didn't find her.
"Well, I'll give you a hint," Shacklebolt said, as if confiding in him. "They're on Hogwarts campus, and either they are in a group, or they are not."
This triggered a second exodus, consisting of what appeared to be mostly twosomes and people on their own. Harry spotted Neville and Daphne going in opposite directions, and sneered slightly. It had been too much to hope that they would use the resources that Hannah had showed them without his prompting.
Granger passed by him, nearly two feet in front of his face, and he quickly ran by her to catch up with her. "I have a proposition, Granger," he informed her, concentrating on not losing his balance in the muddy field.
"Oh? Well make it quick, some of us have a challenge to win," she said, drawing her wand. "Who the fuck are you, anyway?"
"Don't you recognize me?" Realizing that he probably looked fairly different with wet hair and differently colored eyes, he squeezed the melanin out of his eyes and switched them back to green. "It's me, Harry Potter," he said, pulling down his cloak so she could see his face.
"Oh, it's Lord Potter," she said, her demeanor immediately turning nastier. She pointed her wand at him idly, and looked slightly thoughtful, as if choosing how to curse him.
"You can't curse me yet, you'll be disqualified," Harry pointed out.
"So I'm not the only one who noticed the professor's wording."
Harry grinned as they walked. "Of course–half of the rumors that I'd heard about this was that it was in large part fighting against other first years, and how they had a map that they used to track us as we were knocked out or otherwise hurt so that they could bring us to the hospital wing if necessary. Anyway, we all came here prepared to fight."
"I hope you aren't here to challenge me to some sort of stupid pureblooded honor duel. I don't have time for that kind of stupid shit," she said, speeding up her pace. It was hard for Harry to keep up, since she had longer legs, and he tried to regulate his breathing so as not to show that he was panting.
"You have quite the vibrant imagination, Granger. But you haven't angered me in any way. In fact, I'd like to ask you for a favor." He paused for a second, to silently get some breath.
In the interim, Granger turned to him, rain running down her face in streaks, her hair plastered to her face. "And what kind of a favor could I do for the great 'Head of House Potter'?" she sneered. It was a little peculiar dealing with her today. She seemed only half-heartedly bitter at worst.
"I would like to win, but my team has split up. You are a damn good witch, and with you to watch my back, we will crush the competition."
"I feel blessed to be bestowed with that honor by you," she said, not bothering to keep a straight face. "You'd just slow me down–I'd need to get two Golems, not one."
"We'll take them down much quicker with two people, and I have a searching mechanism for them," Harry told her. She looked at him speculatively–at least he thought it was speculatively, since his vision was partially obscured by the rain, and slowed down a little.
"And why would you trust me not to curse you?" she asked.
"Someone taught me how to make binding oaths, they're not very hard, only take a few seconds," Harry reassured her, catching up his breath.
"How will we be bound?" she asked, her curious side coming through.
"Magic. There will be a penalty if either of us break the bond."
She stopped short, and thought for a second. "Well, a searching mechanism sounds considerably faster than what I had intended to do, so let's go. How does this bond thing work?" She looked at him suspiciously. "It's not going to bind me to your service permanently, is it?"
Harry ignored her comment. "You just have to say, 'I concur' when I ask you to. Sound good?"
"That doesn't exactly allay my fears," she muttered, before giving a terse nod, throwing off Harry slightly. Based on what he knew about her, she should have been far less trusting. He briefly wondered what it was that had let her relax so much. Perhaps he wasn't the only person who liked the rain.
"Great. Now hold up your thumb." Harry drew Snape's bloodletting knife, and pressed it to his arm, before squeezing. There was a brief twinge of pain in his arm, and he quickly pressed his arm against the blood, making a small thumbprint, before pressing his thumb to Granger's. "I call upon the Covenant of Lustitia, my party's sacrifice being to do all that is within my power to help the other party succeed as quickly as possible in this task, not returning to the professor until the other party is assured of success. The other party's sacrifice is the same." It was wildly different, being the person who initiated the ritual, as opposed to the other person in the ritual. He had an uncomfortable burning sensation coursing through his body, and although it was amusing to see Granger start at the flames burning out the word "Concur?" in front of her eyes, he wasn't sure he would be doing this ritual again any time soon unless the occasion forced it.
"I concur," Granger said, her lips tight, studiously not looking at Harry. Instantly, the red vine shot up their arms, inducing Granger to gasp. She shivered as it disappeared from view and crossed her shoulder to her neck.
Harry smiled, relieved, and pulled a Circle out of his pocket. "This is a Circle, and it will search the area around us for whatever we're looking for. He pulled his fantastic creatures reference book out of another pocket, flipped to the page on golems, and initiated the copying charm on the book. He felt a relatively small pull on his magic, and in a second, there was an extra copy of the page lying on top of the first. He ripped it out of the book, and placed it face down on the circle. He muttered, "Read." The copy buckled, almost as if it was being pulled along the middle into the Circle's sheet. It then squirmed in the other direction, so that the middle stuck out slightly, and the edges began to merge with the Circle. It ceased its quivering after a few seconds, and he ordered, "Search."
Instantly, it turned into what appeared to be a map of the area, with a dot for the center of the circle, and small red dots all around, absolutely still.
The girl snorted. "Pretty impressive, Potter," she said.
Harry smirked, and said, "Less talking, more flying." He pulled his Windstaff out of his pocket, enlarged it, and mounted, motioning for Granger to do the same. She sat on it awkwardly, clearly not familiar with it. "Cast a sticking charm on your hands, Granger, it would be bad if you fell off.."
He heard a whispered, "Cum Gekkonidae," and he flew towards a pair of red dots, the map recalibrating every few seconds.
"So, you know how to kill these things?" Harry asked.
"So the great Lord Potter doesn't know everything? Asking the silly little muggle-raised girl for help?" she taunted as she gripped his shirt.
"Come on, Granger, no one knows everything," he said. His headache was making him slightly short tempered, and he sped up a little. "Fuck the foreplay, just tell me if you know."
He felt her grip on him shift, and figured she had probably nodded. "Well, you can just batter them into submission, although that would risk destroying the heartstone. Golems are made out of some kind of a substance, such as wood or metal, and are animated by the power in three Hebrew characters. If you erase the one on–Jesus," she said, pausing as Harry evaded a tree, "on the far right, it will stop moving. The other option is to wait until it runs out of power, but they tend to be fairly efficient systems, and if made by a sufficiently powerful wizard, it isn't really worth the time."
"Where will they be on the Golem?" he asked.
"Traditionally, they go on the forehead, but that's not exactly the safest place, so I'd say there's a good chance they are hidden. Definitely on the surface of the body though."
Harry focused some magic into the lenses of his eyes, and through the rain, saw the golems in a clearing in front of them. "Hold on, Granger." In a second, they were flying vertically, and Harry cried, "Golemardium Leviosa!" flinging the golem farthest from them fully out of the clearing.
"What the fuck, Potter," Granger muttered, gripping his cloak for dear life as they returned to horizontal flight.
Harry remembered that she probably hadn't been able to see the Golems, and smiled. "I moved away one of the golems, and we can concentrate on the other until the first one comes back, or just go after the first if it doesn't feel like returning."
"And you don't need line of sight for that?" she asked.
"Actually, you do," he said. He didn't elaborate.
They touched down, and there was a slightly awkward moment as Granger tried to get off the broom while still sticking to Harry. With a finite, she stopped sticking to him, and he shrunk down his Windstaff again. The golem was made out of sandstone, and was currently in a position identical to statues of the thinker, but Rodin's work probably didn't stir when people came close.
"Let's just see if we can immobilize him to figure out where his Hebrew characters are," Granger suggested. "Do you have any good immobilization charms?"
"Petrificus Totalus might not work if the target is already stony."
Granger was silent for a second, before dropping her backpack to the ground and opening it up. "Buy us a little time, Potter. I have just the thing, actually." The golem ambled towards them, its motionless face thoughtful as it bore down on them.
Harry thought for a second, before readying his wand. "You have at least twenty seconds, Granger," he said.
When the golem was within a few meters of them, Granger looked up, and began to curse. "It's right there you fucking retard, what the fuck are you doing, you cockstain?"
"It's under control," Harry told her calmly. It got within striking distance, and in a few parts of a second, raised its arm and let it fall, just as Harry cast Laerad, slightly surprised by the speed of the golem. The dragon's roar came again, echoing through his head, although it responded a little quicker, and the incoming arm was thrown violently away as branches sprouted from the tip of his wand. He heard Granger breathe a sigh of relief, and he held the wand steady, even as he felt small reverberations along it from the golem banging away at the protective shell it served as. Surprisingly quickly, the golem switched its plan of attack to pulling off branches. As it revealed more and more of Harry and Hermione hiding in the tree-like shield, the branches moved to obscure them again, moving faster than the golem worked. However, there were only a limited number of branches, and after they were gone, Harry would most likely have to cast the spell again, and he wasn't sure how many times he could do that.
"Almost done, Granger?" he asked cooly, belying the nervousness he felt.
"Just a few more seconds," she said. Her voice had a muffled tone, and he wondered what she was getting out of her bag. The holes that the golem was revealing in the shield were getting larger and larger, and Harry began to mentally prepare himself for casting it again. Suddenly, Granger was right next to him. "Dispel the shield, Potter," she said, positioning some things on the ground.
Harry said, "Finite," and the shield disappeared. The golem instantly refocused its attack, and now that Harry could see its face again, the motionlessness was slightly eerie.
Granger cast a series of "Waddiwasi", throwing glass bottles at the golem, which shattered on impact, splashing the golem all over. The golem slowed for a second, before raising its arm, and stopping motionless. Its raised right hand continued to jiggle, but Harry relaxed.
"Did you know beforehand that it was going to be golems?"
"No, that was just a reinforcing potion, they come in handy–I figured the sandstone had to be weakened for the golem to be able to move, and I was right. Also, I had a blasting hex on the tip of my tongue if it didn't work out. Now let's find those characters."
They were hidden on the lower back of the golem, and after erasing the right-most character, the hand stopped jiggling. "Now, to get the heartstone out," Granger wondered, poking the golem with her wand. "There's a specific spell for summoning it–I've been looking for a golem's heartstone, truth be told–but I don't remember the spell. It's intangible until after it leaves the golem's body, so we can't just hack and slash the body until we find it, as it might become solid around where we were hacking and slashing–almost inevitably, actually."
"Accio," Harry cast through grit teeth. His headache was completely ruining the rain. A light pink disk extruded from the Golem's leg, and flew up into his hand.
"Nice," Granger complimented him. "Now let's get mine." As she said that, the other golem came walking back, its visage less easily recognizable. It was completely black and clad in what seemed like royal garb, his left side fairly scraped up, apparently where he hit the ground.
Harry pocketed the heartstone, and cast the tripping jinx on it. It fell, and slowly pushed itself up by its arms alone, not using its legs to help it up. With a mighty push, it got up again, and continued to walk.
"Did you see that streak of red on its back?" Granger asked him, excited. "I think that its characters are in the same place."
"Right. More importantly, it has a weird method of getting up, and I'd bet it's highly stereotyped. I'm going to trip it again–then, you'll run over to it and rub out the character–I'll keep it distracted." He cast the tripping jinx on the ground in front of the golem again, and it tripped nicely, just as before. Granger ran over to the golem, and walked around to behind its back as it tried to push itself up. Harry cast Tor on the ground where the golem's hands were placed, making the ground even muddier, and causing it to slip when it tried to fully push itself up.
In a flash, Granger had stepped on its legs, further hindering its progress, and from that point, bent down and rubbed out the right-most character. It stopped mid pushup, and Harry walked over, fairly tired from his gratuitous use of spells, as Granger stood over it, repeatedly pointing her wand at it, moving it somewhat like how Harry had done it, and saying, "Accio!"
Harry moved next to her, and with a flourish, cast, "Accio". The heartstone neatly came up into his hand, and he handed it to Granger, who growled and stuffed it into her bag.
"How the fuck did you do that?" she asked, as he pulled out the Windstaff again.
"I'll tell you another time," he said absentmindedly, hoping that this victory would be decisive enough that there wouldn't have to be another time. This should have proven that two were far better than one. Maybe he would explain the books to her.
Granger cast the sticking charm on herself, and they began to fly back to Shacklebolt. "So who gets first place?" Granger asked.
Harry grimaced. The rain hitting his face from above and also from the side would have been a nice and comforting feeling if it wasn't for this damnable headache. All in all, he didn't really want to deal with this. "Are you kidding? I did practically all of the work. You wouldn't have even been able to extract the heartstone without me–you couldn't get the summoning to work, and I basically subdued the golem both times to buy you time."
"Hey, you would have had to leaf through your book if I hadn't told you how to defeat it, or, actually, you probably would have destroyed the heartstone while looking for it is more likely," she argued. "Besides, you have like a million points, it's not like you need anymore."
"That's bullshit," Harry said, slowing down and altering his eyes' lenses. As soon as he could see Shacklebolt, he sped up in his direction, altering his lenses to keep Shacklebolt in focus along the way. "My searching mechanism and Windstaff were far more necessary to speeding up the process–I could have used the search function on the book too. Besides, your argument that I have a million points is socialist, and Hogwarts operates on a meritocracy–if you think of points as capital, which is basically what they are, it's the most extreme form of capitalism, with rule by the richest. Don't be a sore winner, Granger–you were helpful, but you mostly hung around for the ride. I could have done the tripping hex to the other golem too."
He could almost feel her suppressing her urge to curse him, and wished he had just let her be first. After a minute, as they got close to Shacklebolt, she muttered, "Fine."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and they dismounted, again with a small amount of awkwardness as Granger tried to get off the Windstaff while still stuck to Harry. Harry pulled his heartstone out of his pocket as Granger looked around her bag for hers, and gave it to Shacklebolt. Off to the side, he saw Daphne sprinting back, surprisingly, apparently the first one after him and Granger.
"Very good, Mr. Potter. You get one point for finishing, two points for coming in first in your house, two points for coming in first overall, two points for a perfectly intact heartstone, and one point for not getting hurt at all. Ms. Granger, Ms. Greengrass, assuming that your heartstone are both intact, and you are both intact, you will each get the same number of points, minus the two for first in the school." Granger showed him her heartstone, which was unmarred, as did Daphne, although hers was slightly chipped on the side. "Deduction of a point, Ms. Greengrass," he said amiably. "It's only a small scratch, so it's still usable. You can all keep your heartstones. Now get out of here, you don't need to be in the rain any longer."
"Harry, you won," Daphne said, her voice somewhat muted. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised." She turned toward the castle, and sprinted off.
Granger laughed. "That girl's on your team, isn't she? Trouble in paradise, I suppose. Well, nothing lasts forever, and it probably doesn't help that you're such a fucking prat." Her voice softened, just a bit. "I suppose that you're not so bad for such a fucking prat, though, I would have had to walk without my ride." She ruffled his hair with a flick of her wand, a gust of air shooting through it.
Irritated that she had basically elucidated his problem in a matter of seconds, he asked, "Why the fuck are you so damn chipper today?"
"Well, for one, I just learned that I'm the damn good witch, ah, DGW I suppose, which is pretty exciting. For two, it's raining! How can I not be happy? This is the best weather in the whole damn world!"
Harry pursed his lips. "I'd agree with you, if my head wasn't hurting so fucking badly." As he revealed this, the ache in his head got worse. "Goddamnit, it's almost as if my head is telling me not to like the rain."
"I guess being born of magical parents doesn't make you invulnerable to being crazy. Your head is yours alone, no?" Aggravated by her unhelpful comment, he decided that he wouldn't tell her how to use the books, and his headache abated, almost as if his petty vengeance relieved it.
"One would think."
Hannah gave Harry a slightly worried look as he walked into the empty classroom the next day to meet with his group. He gathered that his actions the day before hadn't really been appreciated, and mentally steeled himself. Of course, he had somewhat figured that from the way the three of them had sat apart from him in class, and how Neville had thrown a scrap of paper asking him to meet with the group later on his desk at the beginning of Magical History and gone over to sit with Daphne and Hannah and scowl at him from across the room. Just a hunch.
"Wonderful day," Harry said, looking out the window and ignoring Neville's sneer and Daphne's obvious irritation. "Clouds everywhere, looks like it might rain for the rest of the week." He felt a small pain in his head, but it went away quickly. He couldn't be distracted if this was to work out properly. He sat on the teacher's desk at the front of the class, feeling the irony of the situation. He had been the one who was left in the dust, but he was going to be the one lectured. Hannah and Daphne sat to Neville's left and right, and Harry noticed that his traditional spot next to Neville and Hannah was gone. They clearly meant business.
Neville didn't mince words. "What the fuck, Potter."
"I have no idea what you mean, Mr. Longbottom," he said. He opted to keep his face mostly clear of emotions–it would anger Neville more than was necessary if he pretended innocence.
"We're a team, Potter, you can't just forget about us and help out some other sod whenever you damn feel like it," he said.
Harry began to feel a little angry. "Yes, we're a team, and as a team, we should stick together when we can, so that we can help each other out. Instead, you and Daphne decided to split up and try to win the damn thing by yourselves! It's not a surprise that you didn't pick up first for your house. At least I can see why Daphne might have wanted to do it by herself."
Daphne shot him an absolutely seething look, telling him he had lost any possible support he could have gotten from that corner. Neville missed it though, and got louder. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you saying I'm less competent than her?"
"That's not what I said," Harry said calmly, reevaluating his position. He had figured that Hannah wouldn't really care, since she hadn't lost any points, and that Daphne had done about as well as she could have, given the circumstances, and wouldn't be worse than neutral in this argument–if she sided with Neville, it could have some sort of bad repercussions for Harry. Double duty at study sessions, perhaps. Harry wondered who would think of the punishment, but decided instead to focus on his defense.
"You bloody well implied it!"
"No I didn't, it's something you extrapolated from the context. Although I can see why you might think that, it isn't what I meant," Harry said.
Neville took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Alright, let's say that's true. Still, it's ridiculous that you worked with someone else against us."
"It's ridiculous that you didn't want to work with me. We could have taken apart the competition easily," Harry said. Neville didn't really have a leg to stand on here.
"Regardless, it was not something you should have done, as a good teammate, to side with someone directly against me. You were hurting my chances by helping her."
"You weren't even second in line, Neville. The group from England with the leather bags came in right after Daphne, you wouldn't have gotten first in Gryffindor," Harry said. The group from England was a group to be worried about–Harry had read about the English the other night. Membership largely passed down through patriarchal or matriarchal lines, although it was possible to get in through other means, simply not very easy. Harry was slightly surprised to find that grandfather Potter had been in it, but his father had forfeited the right to membership to the ladder. He wondered what he had found that was so much better.
"And you hurt Daphne's chances by working against her, too! If you hadn't worked with that girl against her, she might have gotten first place," Neville added, with an air of finality.
"Oh, shut up Neville," Harry said with a scowl, finally losing his patience. "That's the stupidest argument I've ever heard–well guess what, I was also in the tournament, and if I hadn't worked with Granger, and I had still gotten first place, it wouldn't have changed anything, but you wouldn't have been so angry. Why are you so angry after all? You guys fell through, so I found another option."
"You shouldn't have, you should have worked by yourself, like we did! We're your team, if we decide to face adversity, you should do it with us!"
"To show solidarity," Harry said flatly, incredulous.
"Yes, as we would have done for you!" Neville replied.
"That's ridiculous," Harry said. "Just because you want to take a dive doesn't mean I do."
"Then maybe you and the team should split up," Neville said gravely.
This was not what Harry had expected, at all. It was, frankly, suicidal on Neville's part. The team had performed well on challenges in the past mostly on the shoulders of Harry's tutoring, if through Daphne and not him. He briefly regretted helping her out all of those times, before shaking himself out of it. Perhaps that could be used to his advantage. He looked to Daphne, before discarding that idea. She was still infuriated at him, perhaps rightly. He looked to his last possible ally. "Hannah, please, this is crazy."
She shook her head. "Sorry Harry, I have to side with Neville on this. You come to nearly every one of our meetings late, and although you often have interesting spells, it isn't really worth the time we waste waiting for you. Besides, whatever went on between you and Daphne was detrimental to the group–the tension has not been helping, and I feel like her contribution hasn't been as good since whatever happened, happened." Harry hadn't known that it had been so obvious, and tried to gauge what Daphne was feeling. She looked slightly offended, but it wasn't her usual offended look, with her lips slightly parted–she looked slightly like she was sucking on something very sour, her lips were so stuck together. "It was also a dick move on your part to get another Gryffindor to help you for the test–you knew that I wasn't competing, you could have gotten a Hufflepuff to do it with you."
"I don't know any Hufflepuffs," Harry said bitterly. "I've invested all of my time and energy into this group. I've been integral to its success, and you want to kick me out?"
Neville let loose a noise midway between a snarl and a huff. "Back off, asshole. I started this group, Potter, don't forget it," Neville said. "We don't need you."
Harry caught Neville's gaze and delivered a withering look. "House Potter and House Longbottom are allied. Didn't I tell you?" he quoted. Neville got a slightly strangled look, and Daphne eyed Neville strangely. Hannah was unaffected. "Alright, fine. I guess this is how it's going to be."
Neville looked strangely put out, and got to his feet and walked out the door, not meeting Harry's eye or the eyes of his remaining teammates. Hannah stared after him, but didn't budge. Daphne didn't either for a second, but seeing that Hannah wanted to leave last, pursed her lips slightly.
Daphne got up in a manner that seemed bizarre and out of place on an eleven year old, almost as if she was trying to sway her hips slightly. In his aggravated state, Harry barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes, and wondered why she hadn't said a word in the entire encounter. She got close to Harry, and seemed to breathe on him. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he saw her breath for a second, and then it was gone. She whispered breathily, "I had hoped you would ask me to help you in the challenge–you were right, even if you were tasteless–I couldn't work properly with Neville watching, but I dispatched the golem quickly with some of my family's spells. Would have been even quicker with your help."
"Eh, too late," Harry said bluntly. Her eyes widened almost comically, and she left without another word, although she seemed somewhat shaken.
Hannah slid off the desk, her feet hitting the floor distinctly, making two separate noises. "Sorry we were so harsh on you Harry, but you have to know that you can't just be an asshat. No one really takes nicely to it. We're on a team, you should act like it."
Harry felt another unreasonable burst of irritation towards her, and as his headache reared again, dug his fingernails into his temple. "Hmm," he said, wishing she would leave. She had contributed decently to the team after all, she had a real stake in it, unlike the other two.
She walked towards the door, before glancing out the window. "Oh look Harry, there's a hole in the clouds."
He looked out the window, and sure enough, there was a large blue hole, where sunlight was drifting through. "That is certainly true," he agreed, fighting to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
"Maybe it won't rain after all," she said hopefully. "Neville will probably let you back into the group if you just ask him, you were a pretty good addition–it was just that you were always late, in large part," she said almost apologetically.
"Those are called sucker holes, Ms. Abbott," Harry said. "Believe me, it's going to rain. And it's going to pour." He took a small bit of joy at the thought. Thankfully, his head decided not to punish him for the idea.
Hannah shrugged. "Well, you can call on me. No hard feelings, yes?"
Harry thought for a second, before asking, "You ever hear of the Vikings?"
"No, who are they? A ladder?" she said, puzzled as to the peculiar turn in their conversation.
Harry smiled a little wider. "Don't worry about it. Yes, no hard feelings. See you in class.
A/N: Yes, one of my shorter chapters. It seemed like a good place to end the chapter. Maybe the next chapter will be a little longer. Please review, I would like to hear if the synopsis was useful, whether you see any flaws in the writing, and/or what you thought of the chapter.
Aspiring authors: Please direct your attention to my beta profile. I will not do beta work (novel approach, no?) but I will look over your story and say, "This is good, this is bad, this is a plot hole, blah blah blah". The profile explains everything.