October 29, 1994.
The second month into the term had passed fairly quickly, both for Harry as well as for the rest of Hogwarts students. The core classes, that is Transfiguration, Charms and DADA had been slightly altered to incorporate some standard techniques employed in dueling, with the trigger-happy Moody grinning from ear to ear. Mcgonagall had continued demonstrating beginner-level battle transfiguration to the students while Charms Master Flitwick had introduced to everyone some of the more standard charms that were employed in battle. Being an international dueling champion himself, Flitwick had even altered his class schedules into an all-house dueling demonstration class in which he showed the students the nuances and techniques that duelers employ, hinting heavily on the importance of Charms in the subject. Moody was, well Moody. He had completely gone off and begun to engage the students in mock battles using third-year and fourth-year curses and shields; often stunning down students when they failed to uphold his mantra of 'constant vigilance'.
The changes that even affected Harry. Knowing very well that such extra events had not occurred in his previous timeline, he was worried in the beginning, fearing the worst to happen. Later on, he convinced himself that since the worst had happened anyway, whatever could happen would be better. If anything, Harry was sure that at least, he was not magically restrained and fettered down, driven by the nose by Dumbledore and his blasted 'second-chances' philosophy. This time, he was already cutting down Voldemort's supporters and had already destroyed majority of the bastard's horcruxes.
At least, Voldemort will not be a priority this time, other changes be damned.
Then there was one more thing he was patiently waiting for. Fleur Delacour. His love, his girlfriend, his partner in another life.
The day had finally come.
Today the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were supposed to come and the Triwizard Tournament was officially going to begin. Potter had cancelled his private sessions with Daphne halfway, much to the girl's consternation. Daphne had never seen him so careless on any other day. She had even struck two spells on him, something that was completely odd. Knowing what she knew about him, Potter was skilled enough to defeat her soundly with his eyes closed, should he give it a shot. Then again, Daphne had been toiling hard every single day. She would come to the sessions hoping to demonstrate her prowess exceptionally and then be reduced to tears when Potter broke through her spell-chains and mocked her on the face. Blood, sweat, and tears—that was all she received at the hands of her teacher, opponent and perhaps a friend; and she would not have it any other way.
She had grown from the duelist who used quick attacks to win her matches into someone who was truly formidable in the art of battle. Potter... he had taught her how to truly mold magic and use it attack when necessary and defend when necessary. She now used her magic clinically, almost as if she measured every ounce of it. Potter had been direct about it.
"I notice you expend a lot of power in your curses and that too, forcing too much too soon." Potter had explained while scrutinizing her performance in offensive spell casting. Daphne did not want to let him have a big head about it, but deep within her heart, she knew that Potter was a much better teacher than anyone she had ever seen in her life. She had met many experienced duelists and Aurors, but none of them ever understood or explained the stuff with such clarity as him. It was almost as if he was an experienced man, one forged in the heat of battle for decades, not a fourth-year student. How Potter knew so much and in such detail, it was completely unfathomable. However, there was no point trying to figure that out, her Slytherin mind had told. Potter was here and he was teaching her, that was all that mattered in the end, and she did exactly that.
"While trying to force your opponent is a remarkably good strategy in most situations, it has its own flaws. A sharp and skilled opponent could very easily tire you out, as I demonstrated on our very first session." Harry smirked, causing her to blush in embarrassment. "You need to use magic clinically- the minimum at all times. That will save your power and help you in extended duels."
Then he would go out and demonstrate what he meant himself. At times, he would even commit mistakes to demonstrate the flaws of a particular battling technique, and all of a sudden, forge a new technique and add it to the existing ones. It was simply phenomenal. Daphne had grown to anticipating her sessions with Potter more than anything. Even her classes now assumed second priority to her; such was the intoxicating nature of his teaching skill.
She had engaged herself in mock-battles with her tutor, as she had mentally began to revere him as. Tracy had no doubt chortled at her Hufflepuff nature, but Daphne did not mind it. Tracy had even taken the opportunity to ingratiate herself to Potter and had even gone on a practice date with the boy, initiating a kind of heart-pain in her, though she convinced herself that it was because of the aches of their duel. Tracy had later informed her with great regret and frustration, how Potter seemed to dance around her blatant invitations and behave like a perfectly dumb Hufflepuff. Daphne had chortled at that.
Today however, things were different. Today she had managed to strike her tutor twice. Two direct spells. It was almost a miracle since it was usually some tiny part of a spell that would perchance, evade his defenses and hit him, causing little to no injury. Potter, ever the enigma, had this frustrating policy of changing his battle techniques every single time. To defend invited overwhelming attack. To attack invited impenetrable defense. It was frustrating.
"Are you...all right, Harry?" Potter had finally given her permission to call him by his name. Daphne had danced with joy later in her dorms at that, not that she would ever accept it.
"Yeah Greengrass, I am okay. Just a bit... engrossed in thinking other things." There, he had still not used her name, despite her insisting it. He would go out of his way to call her 'Greengrass', much to her irritation. Sometimes she thought that he did it to irritate her.
"We should stop the session for the day." Harry replied. That vanished the smile of her face. Daphne sent her wand back into her holster and walked towards him, a concern in her eyes.
"Are you sure you are all right?"
Harry looked up at her, an amused expression on his face. He had grown to like Raven, or 'Greengrass' as he was so used to calling her. Had anyone told him in the past that he would have grown close to Raven and teach her everything he knew, he would have laughed on the face, as hilarious as it was. Now though... things were different. Spending time with the girl, it felt nice. Teaching her, it reminded him of all the sessions he would have with his inner circle. It reminded him that he would have to reach out to his circle members and make friends with them.
A systematic process, he told himself.
"Greengrass, what happened to that fight you wanted me to do for you?"
Daphne frowned. It was moments like these, which would bring her back into the harsh reality of the world. She still had that betrothal hanging like a sword on her head. Potter was teaching her, as was her clause on his agreement with her. It brought everything down to much more... technical level, something that felt enormously empty.
"My father has sent a missive to Lucius Malfoy, and he has replied. As per as the initial contract, if the buyout clause is activated, then Malfoy has to submit the details of the duel within sixty days of the date of buyout. Also," she looked sharply at him, "unless you actually win, killing the other opponent, the buyout clause does not hold. If you lose the fight, I will have to marry that oaf no matter what."
Harry looked at her, his mind racing back to his past life. Draco had been married to Astoria, Daphne's younger sister. His knowledge of the Pureblood laws told him that it might have happened only one way.
Daphne had left her family and her family name, her financial assets and trust vaults. Perhaps that was why she had resorted to become a mercenary and use her skills to earn her bread. After all, a duelist with no family background was frowned upon. His mind wandered about the possibilities of events that had turned this girl into the cold-blooded mercenary he had fought on multiple occasions. His mind went back to their last battle.
The one in which he had sliced her head off.
"Harry?"
Harry shook himself out of his reveries. "Yeah?"
"Did you even hear a thing I was saying?"
"You will have to repeat all of that." he replied offhandedly. Daphne frowned. "I was saying that within sixty days, that is to say, two weeks from now, he will have to present to us a date, time and place to be agreed upon. On the decided date, both families will reveal their duelists at the time of the duel. If you win, I am saved."
"If I lose?" Harry began, only to find the girl rolling her eyes. Daphne continued. "If you lose, I will have to marry that oaf, or else Malfoy will confiscate the majority of my familial assets."
"What about your younger sister? Can't she-?"
"No. Not unless I am dead or am permanently disabled or cast out of the family." Daphne ended. Harry raised his eyebrows, finding his suspicions to be correct.
Daphne Greengrass had chosen her freedom over family name. She had been cast out of the family, either willingly or by force. She had chosen a path, which offered her freedom over being a trophy wife for Draco Malfoy. She had used her dueling skills the only way she could.
As a mercenary.
Though Draco had indeed come to his senses in his later life, inciting a form of reliable friendship between himself and the dark lord Potter, Harry knew very well that it was partly because of the fact that his own father had chosen to sacrifice his life because Voldemort wanted him to. Draco, who had basically lived up, trying to be his father, had been shocked out of his mind-seeing how his own father was practically a slave, ready to kill his own blood just because his Master demanded it. Harry mused over the fact. It had taken an extreme situation to bring the change in Draco, and it was not something he could guarantee. Though Draco and Astoria looked quite happy to be with each other, he could not just send Daphne into the path he had seen her go the previous time.
Besides, I have changed things way too much to rely on my own future.
He faced her icy blue orbs. "Let me know when you get any updates."
Daphne nodded briskly.
Fleur sat in the Beauxbatons' carriage as it flew towards the premier magical institution of Magical Britain—Hogwarts. Her mind flicked through the intensive dueling and magical training she had done to hone her technique, hoping that she would be selected in the Triwizard Tournament. It was the only chance. She had to demonstrate her prowess before passing school and Merlin help those who stood in her path. A part of her mind also went back to Harry Potter. She would have someone to talk to without having that person drooling because of her allure.
Then, there was another one. That mystery man, her savior. Peverell. Something about him felt familiar, though Fleur had no idea what it was. Always one to follow her senses and instinct, she had felt drawn to Hogwarts. A gut feeling told her that she would find her answers somewhere while staying a year in the great castle.
"Fleur?" She turned towards her friend Caroline, who had been busy chatting with Aimee and Claire, her friends and perhaps the only two people apart from Caroline with whom Fleur was friendly. Caroline pointed out excitedly at the window, and Fleur looked out. A misty appearance of the medieval castle was now visible.
Time for the Triwizard.
TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT
The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 4 o'clock on Friday, October 29. Lessons will end half an hour early. Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.
After lunch, the students had converged towards the grounds as they waited in anticipation for the guests to arrive. Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers —"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"
"Where?," said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.
"There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest. Something large, much larger than a broomstick — or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks — was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time. "It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely. "Don't be stupid . . . it's a flying house!" said another and indeed, it was. As the gigantic structure drew closer, now almost near the windows of the Astronomy Tower, they saw a gigantic, powder blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.
Just like last time. Harry mused.
"Those are Abraxan horses!" A senior looking Ravenclaw intelligently pointed out. A set of silvery stairs drew out from the bottom of the carriage and outstepped a tall-giant woman—the headmistress of Beauxbatons.
Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman. Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.
"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Dumbly-Dorr," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"
"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.
"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her. About two dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. Harry looked into the incoming crowd, attempting to see Fleur among them but failed dismally. It seemed that Fleur was somewhere in the end of the group.
After informing Dumbledore about the correct food and care for her horses, she climbed up the stairs into the castle. The throngs of students entered behind her, all wearing the same dresses and walking gracefully into the castle. Leaving his previous wish of finding Fleur, he decided to wait for the Durmstrang contingent to reach Hogwarts.
"Looking out for someone special, Potter?" Daphne whispered from beside him.
"Nothing...like that." Harry explained with an uncharacteristic stammering in his voice, which was well noticed by the girl.
"So you say."
Harry did not reply.
Just like the previous time, The Durmstrang contingent appeared on their humongous skeletal ship, rising in the center of the Black lake. The students disembarked and the man who stood before the others was a rather rugged-looking man, with long black and silver hair. He had an almost haunted look to his face.
Karkaroff! Harry hissed vehemently. The man whom everyone had believed dead in his previous timeline. The man who had joined hands with Inferno Corporation, leading to the widespread destruction of the Wizarding World.
Not this time.
"Dumbledore!" Karkaroff called out heartily, in a rather unctuous voice, as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. Behind Karkaroff stood Victor Krum, waiting to walk into the castle, away from the cold air outside. He stood silently, a frown visible on his unmarred face. Krum was perhaps the bluntest person Harry had ever met. He planned to introduce himself to the person, later on.
He could hear Ronald Weasley shrieking and whispering like a girl, shouting madly about making Krum give him an autograph, letting him sleep in his dorm for a change, and what not. Steering clear of the conversation, he focused on the happenings.
"Now, that our guests have arrived, students please return to your House tables." Dumbledore voiced his thoughts with a sound-amplifying charm.
The throngs of students entered into the great Hall. Harry went and sat on the Gryffindor table as Daphne went over to the Slytherin table. The Durmstrang students followed Karkaroff who led them towards the Slytherin Table while the Beauxbatons moved over the Ravenclaw table. Karkaroff and Madam Maxime went over to the staff table and sat on their respective chairs. Almost immediately, there was some kind of commotion over the Ravenclaw table as boys from all Houses started to walk towards the Ravenclaw table to introduce themselves to one single golden-haired beauty, whose angelic face seemed to be unmarred despite the frown on her face.
"That's not a normal girl!" Seamus whispered. Mutterings of 'Veela' among the boys, some scoffing and curses from the girls continued the commotion until Dumbledore stood up, sending everything else to silence.
"Welcome everyone to Hogwarts. There is a time for words but this is not it. So without any further delay let the feast begin." Just as the words left his lips, the entire table bloomed with exquisite dishes, the specialty being that French and Bulgarian cuisines and dishes were also included in the table.
Daphne observed the other girl from the Slytherin table. Fleur Delacour, Veela and winner of the under-19 dueling tournament held in France that very year. Daphne had won the under-17 championship and had watched the Veela girl win the grand finale of the under-19 showdown. The girl was quite a prodigy with a wand. For a moment, Daphne wondered what their mutual levels were, after all this time training with Harry.
Fleur Delacour stood up from her table, and walked towards the adjacent table—the Gryffindor one and walked a few steps ahead. Daphne observed her keenly, almost like a hawk. Delacour was walking towards Potter, Harry she corrected herself- and for some strange reason, she felt a bit threatened.
Harry was busy talking with Neville, about magical plants found in the Mediterranean regions. The Longbottom scion, no matter how under confident and magically hindered, was a genuine prodigy in Herbology. Neville Longbottom had grown up to become a Professor of Herbology, not to mention his devastating prowess with a wand under the dark lord Potter's tutelage, something that Harry was trying to recreate.
"Excusez moi, could I have the bouillabaisse?"
Harry whirled around to see the so-very-familiar blue eyes, golden curly hair and the angelic face. For a moment, he thought he was back at Potter manor, gazing into those eyes...
"Harry Potter?"
Her surprised tone brought him back to reality. He was not in Potter manor. He was back in fourth-year, trying to change the path of history. Fleur was not his lover.
"Fleur? I mean, Miss Delacour?"
Fleur smiled softly. "Just Fleur is fine. I hoped meeting you again."
"All right, just Fleur." Harry answered, inciting a pearly laughter from the girl. Her voice was just as melodious as always. Fleur continued, "So can I have the bouillabaisse?"
"Yeah sure, take it." He handed the French dish to her, who waved her golden curls and turned back. "See you soon, yes?"
"Sure."
Daphne watched their interaction from far. The fact that the Veela had got up to talk to Harry Potter no less was more than interesting to most, and hence the resulting silence had allowed almost everyone to hear their conversation. In addition, another set of whisperings had begun in the Great Hall- the fact that Harry Potter did not drool or react to her allure.
"The mystery of Harry Potter deepens..." Tracy replied smugly from her beside. Daphne did not even turn towards Tracy, her blue eyes transfixed at the green-eyed boy. Potter was immune to the allure, that was a given. How, that was a question to be pondered over later. Right now, the most important thing was the way he reacted to the Veela girl. Unlike his usual charismatic personality, Potter had been strangely uncomfortable for a moment; almost as if he was forcing himself to do something, he did not want.
Strange!
Then again, the fact that Delacour had taken an interest in Potter made her feel a bit angry, though she could not discern the reason. She forced herself to look back on her plate and continue to eat, the food suddenly a bit bland for her tastes.
"Seems like you have competition, Daph!" Tracy teased, much to her consternation. Her eyes twitching, she turned towards her friend. "What do you mean?"
Tracy chortled at her and continued, "Oh you are so easy. Don't tell me that you aren't feeling jealous of the Veela over there!" For some reason, Daphne's eyes did not dart back towards that direction; instead, she frowned and replied, "Doesn't matter. Potter is a just a friend and my tutor in Defense."
"Just you wait Greengrass, just you wait." Tracy sniggered, giving her the 'I know something you don't' look, much to the other girl's eyes twitching.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly — guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable." He allowed the applause to go down, and then continued. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" — there was a smattering of polite applause — "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
Bartemius Crouch stood up silently, his square-cut moustache quivering, giving him an odd look as he jerked his head before sitting back down again. Crouch had been in the media storm lately, considering how his 'dead' son's body had been found in the World Cup grounds, freshly injured and killed. Considering that Junior was already dead, Crouch had been able to use his resources and contacts to stay out of prison, (he had to pay a hefty fine of fifty thousand galleons though) and considering how the Triwizard was his brainchild and just at the door, he was allowed to keep his position till the end of the tournament.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament, and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts. And now-"
There was a sudden ripple in the air and in a flash of fireworks; there stood a wooden box that was studded with jewels on the staff table.
"In order to prevent any kind of partiality in selection of the Champions, we have decided that the Champions will be selected by an unbiased selector-" his wand whipped towards the wooden casket-"the Goblet of Fire." The casket broke up from the middle to reveal a large, golden chalice. It was strangely normal to look at, except that the top of the chalice held bright, bluish flames, which danced on the brim of the cup.
"I should remind you all that only students of age seventeen or higher are eligible for the tournament-" his words being surpassed by groans and boo-hoo from the crowd-"for safety reasons. I am going to put an age line around the artifact which will prevent you all from trying to illegitimately trying to enter."
Ignoring the chorus of wails from the tables, he continued, "You have time till 4pm, on Halloween to enter your name into the Goblet. The Goblet shall be placed here in the Great Hall until then. Please state your name, your school in a parchment and drop it into the Goblet. If you are of age, the chalice will accept your entry. If not..." Dumbledore's moustache quivered, "the results will be interesting, for sure."
"Yes, it only took one insane death eater to get through your defenses!" Harry muttered to himself.
Then again, the cloak can mask my magic from his age-line, and I can enter myself... Nah!
Dumbledore continued, "However, aside from the tournament, there will be another set of events in which everyone else can participate, including the Triwizard champions, if they want." Harry turned to the Headmaster to listen properly. This was something that was completely new to him.
"Hogwarts is also going to have a dueling event and a Brainiac challenge, a theoretical quiz for our other students and guests. Between the three schools, I expect we are all going to have a lot of fun." A chorus of clapping and cheering continued as people began whispering excitedly about the new events. Harry cast a quick look at Daphne, who smiled back at him hearing about the dueling event. She nodded subtly at his glances before he looked away.
The next day...
"So Potter, you sure you aren't going to try and enter for the tournament?"
Harry glanced towards Daphne, and seeing her teasing smile, smirked back. "I could, but I would rather stay out of it, and go for the dueling event instead."
"And there goes my chance of winning down the drain." Daphne muttered with a fake sigh, much to his grinning. "Why Greengrass, still can't stand against me?"
"You very well know that I don't. Honestly, you are of my age and experts have trained me all these years. I still cannot figure out how you know all that you know." She sighed, much to his amusement. Harry did not reply and simply watched the Triwizard Goblet burning with the ethereal blue flames rising out of it.
"I was not joking, Greengrass, I could have beaten the protections of the Goblet and entered myself. I didn't. I have some more important things at hand."
For some reason, Daphne believed him. Harry Potter was indeed an enigma. She knew that with his knowledge and skills, he could very well breeze through his NEWTS any day. Despite that, he maintained a competent performance in class. Enough to stay at the top five but not showy enough to gain any undue expression. It was almost as if he was born to be in...
"Potter? I had a question, and would like an honest answer if you could."
Harry glanced at her, with a calculating expression on his face. Daphne had been true to her word. Ever since their deal, she had strictly kept all his secrets to herself. He knew that because he had a habit of scanning her surface memories randomly (not that he would ever admit it) and not only that, but the girl never once asked him to reveal any of his private secrets to her. Ever. Unlike a bucktooth bookworm and a redheaded betrayer, Daphne understood and appreciated the concept of privacy.
He nodded, gesturing her to continue.
"How is it that you are a Parselmouth? I mean, the Potters are not related to Slytherin. Your mother was a muggleborn, so how do you have Slytherin's gift? I mean- I know You-know-who was a parselmouth and all, but-" she stopped midway, trying to figure out the best possible way to explain the conundrum.
Harry considered the situation. His Slytherin heritage, while a complete secret so far, would not remain so once he took his Wizengamot seat the coming year. Besides, Daphne had taken an oath of silence... Very subtly, he raised his right hand and put it on her palm. Daphne raised her eyebrows at the uncharacteristic gesture and her eyed darted to his. He nodded towards his palm and she glanced down, only to be shocked her wits out to see the signet ring form on a finger. The green capstone and the basilisk insignia being very distinct and familiar; after all, she wore the same seal herself every single day.
"You—you are the-" she began, only to be cut off by him midway.
"Yes."
She looked down at the signet ring, only to see it vanishing away, as he took his palm off her. Daphne was surprised to find that she liked the feeling of his hand on her.
"You are full of surprises, aren't you?" she smirked.
"I try."
The evening feast, Halloween.
The Great Hall was teeming with people. Students from the three schools in their complete school-robe regalia sat on the four crowded House tables. The staff table was already filled up by the teachers, and had to magically expanded to include the guests. On the edges, a cluster of seats had been arranged for the reporters as well as ministry personnel who had arrived for the occasion. Tonight, there were no houses, only schools. Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.
"And now, it is time for the Goblet to choose the Champions for the Triwizard Tournament!"
The great Hall of Hogwarts was brimming with anticipation and excited whispers. Some excited about their own possibility of selection, others busy gossiping about the potential champions of the respective schools. Ron Weasley in particular, could be seen rooting loudly for Angelina for Hogwarts and of course, Krum for Durmstrang. He would have rooted for the Veela from Beauxbatons, but she was way-too-friendly with Potter for his tastes. Draco Malfoy was bragging from the Slytherin table, telling to whoever would listen how his father had mentioned that he could have been a champion of not for the age clause.
"The Champion for Durmstrang is..." Dumbledore raised his hand to catch a piece of parchment that had been hurled out of the burning blue flames of the Goblet, which had momentarily turned red.
"Victor Krum!"
"Oh come on, that was completely obvious." Ron yelled loudly. He never had the epiphany that he was acting worse than the females crushing on the celebrity. Ignoring the awkward looks that his friends were giving him, Ron rooted and cheered for Krum.
"The Champion for Beauxbatons is... Fleur Delacour!"
Caroline and the other girls cheered loudly. Harry could feel a smile grace his face at Fleur's selection. Fleur Delacour got over the momentary surprise, and stood up regally before coming down to move towards the antechamber.
"And finally, the Hogwarts' Champion. The Champion for Hogwarts is..." Dumbledore snatched the oncoming parchment from the air.
"Cedric Diggory."
Cedric Diggory, the pretty-boy of Hufflepuff, stood up gracefully. His friends and the rest of the Hufflepuff house cheering madly for him. Hufflepuff was normally treated like the House of the commoners, and hence, they hardly got any recognition. To see one of them becoming the Champion of Hogwarts, they were nigh exhilarated. He strode up front and joined the rest of the Champions in the antechamber. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily, as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can-"
"You know, for someone as competitive as you, you are awfully comfortable staying away from the limelight." Daphne commented pointedly from his side. Harry just guffawed and answered, "Come on Greengrass. I am just happy that this time there will be a normal year in which I can-"
He never completed his statement as he witnessed a jet of crimson flames emit out another paper to Dumbledore's hand, who caught it almost automatically.
"Harry Potter."
Fuck!
### That is for this chapter guys. I will take this moment to answer a couple of questions put forward by my reviewers. In case I forget to address a question, please bring it up to me.
## Did Harry reveal his gray robes/ gold locket to Daphne intentionally? No. I got a review saying that it is a little uncharacteristic of an OP Harry to commit something so pedestrian. The answer is- Hubris. HP Universe demonstrates the fact multiple times that the most strongest wizards often fall to simple things. Dumbledore died simply because he put on a little ring. Voldemort died simply because of one simple mistake. In 1981, the dark lord fell to a one-year-old baby in a crib. I guess what I want to say is, no matter how powerful a character is, they are not perfect, and neither is Harry. Dark lord he might be, but he is also reckless, careless and takes stupid decisions impulsively at times. While he is a OP character, I needed him to be such for my storyline. I think his imperfections make him much more real than say, an OP character who is infallible.
## A number of reviewers stated how they did not like an OP harry. My question is, why did you not complain when Voldemort was an OP Character in canon? If dark lord Voldemort can be OP, then why not Harry? Especially considering he beat Voldemort at age 14 in a battle of wills. If the same character becomes a dark lord, surely he will be OP. Right Bub?
## Yes, the repulsion Daphne felt from Harry's wand is due to the blood core.
## As for the future-past timeline, I will include snaps of it in due time.
## The most important question... Pairing. I will let you guys go insane trying to figure it out. A suggestion if you will? Just drop it and enjoy the story as it comes.
## Will Cedric die? Umm... Potential spoiler. Next question.
## The wand topic. Please read the end segment of Chapter five properly. Yes Harry doesn't need to use wands. But is it really cunning to display his wandless skills out to everyone? Think 'slytherin'.
## Disjointed story? And you understood that from the first chapter alone? Amazing man! amazing! (For my other reviewers, I have a request. I know that my storyline and writing style is a bit unconventional at times, but I would request you to bear with me till the end. perhaps all your questions would simply get answered if you would just hold up till the end. )
## If Harry seen all that Daphne knew then how did he not know that she Told Tracey everything? Simple. he saw her surface memories and thought that those were all. Just because Harry decided that he knew it all, doesn't mean that it really was all. after all, Daphne is a budding Occlumens too, right? And as I have stated, my Harry is not perfect.
## Over complications in the plot? To be honest bro, I was tired of reading straight-forward plots of the same old HP story. I wanted something different, else why write at all? No offence.
## Why doesn't Harry kill Granger and Weasley? "It is a systematic process..."
## Eldritch! Got it bro!
#### That's for now. I hope I didn't miss anything. If I did, please forgive my shortcomings and do let me know. I will surely answer it, if possible. And almost a thousand followers in 3 weeks. Damn flattering man! Love you all.
