CHANGELING
When Harry James Potter pushed open the portrait to Gryffindor Tower and came face-to-face with one Hermione Granger, he felt like he could burst into tears.
And not just because of the toast she was holding in her hands, but because of the steely look in her eyes that promised trouble.
Not trouble for him though (for once), this look was the same one she'd had on her face the day she'd figured out Slytherin's monster was a basilisk. This was the same look she'd had on her face when she'd researched ways to defeat dementors before sending him after Professor Lupin for the patronus charm. This was the same look she'd have on her face when she found him a way to get out of doing this blasted Tournament.
"I love you," he said in way of greeting as he accepted the toast from a smirking Hermione.
"Oh hush, you," his bushy-haired best friend said dismissively, "You might get a girl's hopes up talking like that".
Following her automatically as she started down the corridor, Harry groaned as he took a bite of the toast. Plum jam, the perfect amount too, his favourite. Sometimes he felt he didn't deserve a friend like Hermione.
"I thought you might want to go for a walk," she admitted as they reached the Grand Staircase, "Perhaps avoid going to the Great Hall entirely, you can't imagine the way everyone was hanging on my every movement, it was as if they thought I was hiding you under my robes or something". Faltering mid-step, she sent Harry a look from the corner of her eye, "Although I guess you're used to being stared at like that," she added softly, making Harry grunt in agreement – not willing to risk talking with his mouth full when Hermione was clearly in one of her moods.
"It'll only get worse now, I suppose," he muttered unhappily when he'd swallowed, "Half of Gryffindor think I cheated to put my name in, and the other half also think I cheated to put my name in but don't care since I'm 'representing Gryffindor'".
"Well, Hufflepuff seem to pretty much agree on how much they hate you?" Hermione offered slowly, the two of them pausing to chuckle. "Half of Ravenclaw look like they're siding with Hufflepuff, while a quarter of those remaining just want the Boy-Who-Lived to win".
"What about the remaining quarter?" Harry asked when he'd finished doing the math.
"They don't even know the Tournament is happening," Hermione said dryly, "They haven't taken their noses out of their books since the school year began. Bastards," she added under her breath, "Taking my books. There's some good news though," she remembered suddenly, beaming at Harry, "Slytherin still hates you".
A laugh shocking its way out of his throat, Harry didn't bother to try fight it as he and Hermione stepped out into the chilly morning air. "Oh Merlin… I needed that," he confessed when he and Hermione had finally stopped laughing, his friend kindly pretending not to have heard the slightly hysterical note to his laughter, "After last night I…"
"Tell me about it," Hermione instructed as they headed towards the lake, "Tell me everything that happened from when you left Gryffindor table to when you met me outside the Tower".
So Harry did.
He told her about how he was being forced to compete due to the 'contract'.
He told her about how Professor Moody suspected it was an attempt on his life.
He told her about how Ron had turned on him, accusing him of betraying his friends and family for fame.
And he told her about how he really really hated the magical world at the moment, and that sometimes he felt like he should have never left the Dursleys.
(Hermione slapped him for that last comment, of course, muttering something about industrial strength bleach and something called 'orcinus orca' – which Harry feared was some kind of dark hex or something).
Other than slapping him however, Hermione just accepted the rest of his story without question, nodding absently as Harry watched the gears in her head already begin turning. "Professor Moody might be right, Harry," she admitted hesitantly, "I don't believe any student could have fooled the Goblet into believing there were four schools like that. I mean Dumbledore's age line was laughable. Seriously Harry," she added when Harry frowned, "It's a joke, I came up with half a dozen ways to beat it in just thirty minutes. I think we can forget about the age line, but the fact that the Goblet of Fire, an ancient magical artefact was tricked is important".
"Whatever you say," Harry agreed simply, shrugging at her as she fixed a suspicious look on him. "The only way I could think of to beat the Goblet would be to throw your name in, but I figured that wouldn't work," he confessed.
"It does," Hermione corrected, "I tried it. Of course, I accidentally threw in the piece of parchment I had written down a source book for Ancient Runes, so I was sufficiently punished by my attempt at cheating and didn't try again. Okay I did," she admitted as Harry's eyebrow just rose, "You could have also levitated your name in, it worked on my timetable".
"And your punishment for cheating then was that you had to go ask for a new copy then?" Harry asked innocently, faltering at Hermione's dark look.
"I memorised my timetable weeks ago," she said with a sniff, throwing her hair over her shoulder and speeding up. "Besides," she added, only for whatever she was going to say being cut off by a high-pitched squeal as something large and black swooped past her head.
"Uh… hi?" Harry blurted, staring at the large falcon perching on his rapidly raised forearm, "Can I help you?"
The falcon just glared at him in response, forcing a hiss of pain from his lips as its talons tightened around his arm and drew blood.
"Harry? It's… it's got a letter," Hermione pointed out, his bushy-haired friend having put a lot of distance between herself and the falcon she was eyeing in open terror.
Reaching out nervously, Harry carefully began to untie the letter, the falcon watching him with unrestrained hostility as if just waiting for him to make the wrong move. Grunting as a wing hit him in the face as the bird of prey took off suddenly, he waited until he was sure it was gone before swooping down to pick up the letter he'd dropped, shaking off the dirt as he frowned down at the familiar seal on the front beside his elegantly written name.
"It's from Gringotts?" Hermione whispered curiously, the two of them looking around for Ron on automatic. They'd both learned years ago not to open Gringotts mail around their less-wealthy friend, he always insisted on reading the letter as well ("If Hermione gets to then so do I") and he always threw a tantrum when he saw the general total at the bottom of the parchment. "Why would Gringotts be sending you a letter?"
"Maybe it's about Mum and Dad's place in Godric's Hollow?" he suggested carefully, neither of them making any move to open it, "The Goblins said they were going to try force the Ministry to either buy it or remove its memorial status".
"Well open it and find out," Hermione insisted, the two of them staring at each other for a moment before Harry was sighing and gently obeying.
Something told him, deep in his gut, that he wasn't going to like what this letter was going to tell him. Unfortunately however, he'd learned a long time ago that he didn't have the choice to just chuck it into his trunk and ignore it, if he did then he'd just get blindsided by whatever the letter was about. That'd what had happened to him back in third year after all, if he'd just read that letter straight away then he would have been able prevent Mrs Weasley from helping herself to his money.
Okay, that wasn't being fair. He had asked her about getting a book from Flourish and Bott's during the school year, that she'd gone to Diagon Alley to buy it for him after getting the money out of his vault wasn't her fault. She'd even made sure to send Harry the change and his vault key with the book.
"Dear Mister Harry James Potter," he began slowly, backing up to lean against a tree as Hermione began pacing before the lake. "This letter is just to confirm your entry into the Triwizard Tournament on the 31st of October".
"Well great," Hermione mused when Harry paused, "It's not official until its Goblin official. Keep reading".
"Despite the obvious foul play in regards to your name being entered while both underage and under a fourth non-existent school, the contracts submitted by the Ministry of Magic do not contain a withdrawal clause applicable for yourself"
"So there are withdrawal clauses then at least," Hermione pointed out.
"Oh wait, it gets better," Harry countered, "You should see what they've put in brackets". Clearing his throat as Hermione looked at him expectantly, he adjusted his glasses and read out "Unless, of course, you are either pregnant or a particularly large dwarf".
"I don't think we could get away with claiming you're a dwarf," Hermione dismissed automatically, apparently not seeing the humour in it.
"We at Gringotts are happy to announce however, that under Clause 44.C for orphaned contestants you have hereby been declared an emancipated adult," Harry finished, looking up at Hermione in surprise, his friend returning the look with owl-like eyes. "To finalise your emancipation you are required to present yourself at Gringotts at your earliest convenience to sign the forms personally and have the required meeting with the Head of the Department of Magical Children and Guardianship".
"So it doesn't matter then, the Ministry will never allow you to – Harry? Harry?"
Only able to make a squeaking noise in response, Harry just limply thrust the letter into Hermione's hands, the next paragraph shocking the words from his lungs as his legs collapsed beneath him. "Read it," he croaked out, raising shaking hands to run them through his hair.
"From where? The meeting?" Hermione questioned, "To finalise your emancipation you are required to present yourself at Gringotts at your earliest convenience to sign the forms personally and have the required meeting with the Head of the Department of Magical Children and Guardianship. After these criteria have been met, you will be required to formally declare your name to the Ministry, whether you will continue using your given name of 'Harry James Potter' or your birth name of- Oh Harry".
"I'm adopted," he blurted, blinking up at her dumbly, "How can I be adopted? I look just like Dad, but with Mum's eyes".
Dropping down onto the dirt beside him, Hermione didn't respond straight away, choosing instead to squint at the letter as if it would change and reveal they'd misread it. "Maybe… maybe there are long-term glamours? Or some kind of potion or charm that makes you look like your adoptive parents?"
"But I'm not adopted!" Harry yelled, shoving himself to his feet and taking up Hermione's past pattern of pacing. "I… I can't be! Why didn't anyone tell me?" he demanded, turning to stare at his friend, "Why didn't Sirius tell me? Or Remus? They both had the chance to last year!"
"Please stop yelling at me Harry," Hermione snapped coldly, "This isn't my fault. We'll figure it out, we always do. You just need to remain calm".
"Calm? How can I be calm?" he countered, "I'm not even 'Harry'! Instead I'm some… some… what was my name again?"
"Oh," Hermione blurted, squinting down at the letter again, "Apparently your birth name is 'Perseus Jackson', after the Greek Hero, I'd presume".
CHANGELING
This story is based off my own "Changeling" challenge, I'm not entirely sure what brought it about, but it happened and I'm actually rather proud of it. And, the awesome thing about this particular chapter, is that the last sentence can be swapped out for any other name if Perseus Jackson isn't exactly your thing!