Title: Truth behind the name and the lies pt.4
Pairings: DracoxHarry, twincest, OliverxPercy, RemusxSeverus, CharliexBlaise,ViktorxHermione, future BillxFleur. Future Stalker Ginny! Seamus and Colin *hides*
Fandom : HP
Notes: An abused boy finds out he's a wizard and a hero; his tormented mind rebels. One person sees through the misconceptions to the real Harry and treats him the way he deserves. How does this change them both and those around them.
Chapter 8- The Triwizard Tournament announced
Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Harry could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Harry, Draco, Hermione, and Blaisé jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.
"Blimey," Blaisé said, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soaked. What!"
A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Blaisé's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Blaisé staggered sideways into Draco, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of cold water over his shoes and into his socks.
People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire.
Blaisé looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again. He pulled out his wand, "Don't mess with me Peeves. I'm in a very distraught mood. You throw another one of those and I'll curse you. See if I don't."
"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!" Professor McGonagall, Headmistress and former head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Draco's shoulder to stop herself from falling. "Ouch - sorry, Mister Malfoy."
Draco shrugged, "No problem Headmistress. Blaisé practically fell on me a moment ago.'
"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.
"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.
Blaisé muttered a complex hex, which managed to affect the poltergeist. Then he cast a banishing jinx, "To the lake with you Peeves."
"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"
Harry, Draco, Blaisé, and Hermione slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, Blaisé muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face.
The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here.
Blaisé was tempted to wrap his wings around himself but he wasn't keen on outing himself as a Veela here just yet.
Hermione walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost.
Pearly white and semitransparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and insuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.
Harry, Draco, and Blaise went to join the Slytherins.
"Good evening," Nearly Headless Nick said after making his way to the Slytherin table, he gave Harry a sad look. "It's a pity to lose you to the snakes, Harry."
"Says who?" Harry said, "I should have been Sorted here in the first place, I haven't stayed in the Tower since First Year. I hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm cold and I'm starving."
The Sorting of the new students into Houses took place at the start of every school year; he was quite looking forward to it.
Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice came from behind Harry.
"Hiya, Harry! I forgot you might be over here" It was Colin Creevey, a third year to whom Harry was something of a hero.
"Hi, Colin," said Harry warily.
"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"
"That's nice," said Harry.
Draco blinked, "Two wizards born into a Muggle Family is highly unusual, I hope he does well." he could at least be nice to the kid.
"He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in the aisle. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"
Harry shrugged, "The Hat will put him wherever he fits in best. I just hope he has a far safer first year then you did."
"We miss you Harry." Colin called out before hurrying back to the Gryffindor table.
Harry was excited; Papa's boyfriend Remus was the first DADA teacher to start a second year in a long while. He scanned the Head table, Hagrid the oaf was probably still trying to navigate the lake in the storm- why didn't they just sent for carriages? Surely, letting a group of terrified first years boat across a lake in a storm was unsafe. Papa was probably freezing outside waiting for them. He spotted Remus; he really liked him. The current Head of Gryffindor called him pup and treated him like a son. He stiffened when he spotted a familiar but not welcome face at the Head Table. Sirius…what was he doing here? He tugged on Draco's sleeve, "He's here…why?"
Draco looked at the head table and his eyes narrowed when they landed on the Head Table. "Don't know, probably here to spend time with you. I wonder what he's teaching? He can't teach Defense because that's Remus' class."
"I don't like him but he looks lonely."
Draco snorted, "That's not lonely, that's irritated Adder. He's probably annoyed because Remus…I mean Professor Lupin is ignoring him."
Harry said quietly, "Oh. I don't want him as a teacher."
"I don't see Professor Weasley. Merlin, I'm afraid Black is our new Transfiguration professor."
Harry pouted, "I wanted good marks this year. Now I won't get them."
On Remus' other side was an empty seat, which Harry guessed was papa's. Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor McGonagall, the headmistress, her hair was bound in a severe bun and perched on her head was her pointed witch's hat.
Harry glanced up at the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.
"Oh hurry up," Blaise moaned, beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff."
The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Harry watched his papa enter; Severus was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall.
If Harry, Blaise, and Draco were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked.
They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school. All of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what Harry must be Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it hooked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, 'I fell in the lake!' He looked positively delighted about it.
Papa now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty-patched wizard's hat. Harry noticed his papa was shaking and wet, he worried about him. Even Remus looked very concerned, while Sirius looked smug.
The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:
A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.
While still alive they did divide
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?
'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!
The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.
The Sorting passed as usual and Dennis Creevey became one of the new Gryffindors much to Colin's delight.
Once the Sorting was finished, Remus wrapped his cloak around Severus and led him out to change into dry clothes. Severus was shaking so hard…
Draco noticed Sirius' glare and was not pleased. Harry hadn't noticed, or he hoped Harry hadn't. Harry couldn't understand why his parents would have made such a disagreeable person his godfather.
"I had a speech planned," Headmistress McGonagall began, "but in light of the weather I will postpone it until after the feast. So tuck in and warm up."
"Hear, hear!" Harry, Draco and Blaise said loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.
"Aaah, 'at's be'er," Blaise muttered, with his mouth full of mashed potato. He was trying to ignore the ache he felt without Charlie.
"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."
"Why? Wha' 'appened?" said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak.
"Peeves, of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance – but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."
The Bloody Baron was Slytherin's ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves, though Blaise's show of temper might have proved he could handle the floating menace that was said to have 'come with the castle'.
"So Peeves hacked off about something and not just being shitty as usual," Blaise said darkly.
"So what did he do in the kitchens?"
"Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. He was swimming in the soup at one point. Had to make a new pot after that. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits."
The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.
When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Minerva McGonagall got to her feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.
"So!" McGonagall said smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and warmed, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it." The corners of her mouth twitched, then she continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
"What?" Harry gasped; he wasn't going to be able to play this year?
Fred and George were mouthing soundlessly at McGonagall, apparently too appalled to speak. The Captaincy had been rumored to either be George or Angelina.
McGonagall went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"
But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.
A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, and then began to walk up toward the teachers' table. A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward McGonagall.
Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Harry gasped gripping Draco's robe in fright.
The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever seen. It looked as though someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel had carved it out of weathered wood. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.
One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.
The stranger reached McGonagall. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and McGonagall shook it, muttering words Harry couldn't hear. She seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. McGonagall nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on her right-hand side.
The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.
McGonagall's smile seemed very forced, "It is my pleasure to introduce our new staff members. Professor Weasley decided that teaching was not something he was particularly fond of and Professor Sirius Black, a former Auror and an Animagus has replaced him. The gentleman on my right is Mad-eye Moody, yet another former Auror who has been sent here courtesy of Minister Bones to run tests on our wards."
It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except McGonagall, Sirius and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.
Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.
McGonagall cleared her throat. "As I was saying," she said, smiling at the sea of students before her, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
"You're JOKING!" Fred Weasley said loudly, lunging to his feet.
The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and the Headmistress seemed to chuckle appreciatively.
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," she said, "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."
"Death toll?" Harry whispered, looking alarmed. But his anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another.
Draco himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago.
Blaisé listened intently, was this what Charlie was talking about when he said he was coming to Hogwarts? Was his mate involved in this tournament?
XoooooX
"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," McGonagall continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."
XoooooX
"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley said, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches but George looked ashen.
Fred was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at McGonagall, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors.
The Headmistress spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more. "Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age, that is to say, seventeen years or older will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" she raised her voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, George's worry was now replaced with anger and both twins were suddenly looking furious, "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them."
Severus finally spoke up, "I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His black eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. As good as most of you know I am at potions, my spell casting is just as keen." he was sure all of Harry's group of friend could actually handle the challenges of the Tournament but he didn't want any of them even in the slightest danger.
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!" McGonagall sat down again and turned to talk almost reluctantly to Mad-Eye Moody.
There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.
"They can't do that!" George Weasley pouted, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at the Headmistress. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"
"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally and a thousand Galleons prize money!"
Harry, Draco, Hermione, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Severus Snape might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.
"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" Draco wondered out loud.
"Dunno," Fred grumbled, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George…"
"Papa knows you're not of age, though," Harry said quietly.
"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Snape's just trying to stop us giving our names."
"People have died, though!" Hermione said in a worried voice before they separated.
"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Draco, what if we find out how to get 'round Snape's magic? Fancy entering?"
Draco shook his head, "I think we've had our share of dangerous adventures. I'd like to stay clear of this one. "
Harry nodded, "Me too. I don't want to enter…"
They said goodnight and headed to their beds.
Blaise's eyes were filled with longing; he wouldn't have Charlie to hold him tonight. He missed him so much…