RITUAL

As he stepped into the common room, Harry was met with a wave of noise that almost knocked him off his feet, grabbing hands latching onto his robes and pulling him into the middle of the room where the whole of Gryffindor was standing staring at him.

And surprisingly, because Gryffindors didn't usually do things by halves, half of them were cheering and applauding while the other half were glaring and shouting.

"You should've told us you'd entered!" Fred shouted as he appeared out of nowhere, he and George scooping him up onto their shoulders.

"But how did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" added George as he jostled Harry, sounding both annoyed and impressed.

"I- I didn't!" Harry argued, squirming about in an attempt to make them put him down. "I don't know how-"

"If it couldn't be me, Harry," Angelina interrupted, "Then at least it's a Gryffindor".

"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!" Katie Bell cut in excitedly.

"Exactly!" Angelina confirmed happily.

"We've got food, Harry," a voice he didn't recognise said quickly, "Come and have some".

"I'm not hungry, I ate at the feast," he refused quickly, only to be dropped down onto his feet right in front of a table that had been covered in food. "Guys, seriously".

Nobody seemed to care though, everybody was busy clapping him on the back and congratulating him for having something else trying to kill him. Lee Jordan had dug up a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and only Harry's quick thinking prevented it from being magically tied around his neck like a cape, a flick of his wand instead causing it to tie itself around Lee Jordan's arms instead.

"Guys stop," he called, trying to make himself heard over all the shouting. "Everyone!"

Finally losing his temper as another butterbeer was shoved into his hands, Harry threw it down at the ground as hard as he could, the sound of glass shattering making the entire room go still. "I didn't put my name in the Goblet," he growled out, well aware of everyone's eyes on him, "And I don't know who did".

"Oh come on Harry! You don't have to lie to us!"

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Harry asked slowly, raising an eyebrow at the suddenly flushing blonde boy. "I'll only say this once. I am not lying!" he shouted, the quietly that followed leaving him wonder if he'd been silenced without his knowledge. "Now, does anybody here still not believe me?" he demanded, looking around the room at the sheepish Gryffindors.

"Yeah, okay," a heart-breakingly familiar voice said sceptically, everyone splitting out of the way so Harry could see the speaker. "Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, when no one would've seen you. I may not be Hermione Granger, but I'm not stupid".

"Don't you dare bring me into this Ronald!"

"I also said, Ron," Harry forced out, both hurt and resigned by his friend's words, "That I wanted a normal year at Hogwarts without somebody trying to kill me". And Merlin... did he sound melodramatic saying that out loud in front of all of Gryffindor.

"Right. Because who would want to kill you?" Ron spat, the rest of the House quiet as they stared between the two.

"Do you want the list?" Harry countered, "Voldemort when I was one. Voldemort again when I was twelve. Voldemort and a basilisk when I was twelve. Thankfully Voldemort wasn't involved last year, when we were attacked by a horde of dementors and a werewolf. And now? Now it seems like it's this bloody Tournament's turn!"

"If you didn't want to die in the Tournament then you shouldn't have entered," Ron said with a snort.

"I didn't enter!"

"Right," Ron said simply, turning and starting back up the spiral staircase to their dormitory without another word.

Ron wasn't the only person to turn away, it seemed, as most of Gryffindor exchanged looks and began backing away from him awkwardly. As Hermione slowly made her way through the crowd towards him, Harry was forced to watch as the rest of Gryffindor scattered, sending him disgusted looks as the words "Cheat" and "Liar" echoed back to him.

"Harry," Hermione began, only to falter and trail off, the book-smart girl not seeming to know what to say.

"Four times in four years," he ground out, staring across the room at the fireplace, not having moved since he started his speech.

"It's not like that," Hermione tried to argue.

"First year it was over the one-hundred and fifty points we lost getting Norbert to the tower," Harry corrected bluntly, not at all concerned by the lack of emotion in his voice as he felt his magic within his chest flaring and spluttering in time with the flames in the fireplace. "Second year they found out I was a parseltongue and called me a dark lord. And in third year they wanted to hand me over to Black".

Hermione let out a squeak and shifted uncomfortably, "You heard about that then?" she asked weakly, Harry sending her a Look (capital 'L' necessary) in response. "Of course you did," she realised sadly, "What are you going to do?"

"What makes you say I'm going to do anything?" Harry countered, a smirk tugging at his lips as it was Hermione's turn to send him a Look. "Can you do me a favour?" he asked quietly, hoping, pleading she would say yes.

"I trust you, Harry," Hermione promised. "I've trusted you ever since you rammed your wand up a troll's nose to save my life".

"It's stupid," he warned, trying to keep the warmth he felt in his chest from her words hidden from his voice. "Really, really stupid".

"I trust you".

"It's dangerous," he added, turning to face her fully. "Really, really dangerous".

"I trust you," Hermione answered, facing him as well as she raised her jaw bravely.

"It could kill me," he continued, "Like, really kill me. Totally dead".

"I trust you," Hermione repeated.

"I know you do," Harry agreed. For how could he not when she was meeting his eyes with nothing but determination in hers? "Did I mention it was stupid?" he asked awkwardly.

"It wouldn't be your plan if it wasn't," Hermione said simply, a small smile growing on her face as he grinned. "What do you need me to do?"

"Wait here," Harry instructed, "I have to get something from my trunk, then we'll go".

When Hermione nodded, backing up to jump up and sit on the table, Harry beamed at her before turning to run up to his dormitory. Ignoring the way Ron, Seamus and Dean's conversation cut off the moment he entered, Harry started going through his trunk. The Map and his invisibility cloak ending up at his feet, he turned his trunk so the others couldn't see and masterfully popped off its false lid, catching the thin black book and the box that fell out. With a parting glare in Ron's direction, Harry gathered up the three items and started back down the stairs, shoving the box and book into his robes as he gestured for Hermione to follow him out into the corridor.

"Don't ask," he ordered as he threw the cloak over them, "I'll explain when we get there".

It didn't take them too long to get to his destination, the Marauder's Map allowing them to avoid any teachers or prefects patrolling the halls. As they stepped into the abandoned classroom, Harry clearing the dust with a murmured spell, Hermione looked around curiously.

"What classroom is this? I've never seen it before".

"It was the classroom for Enchanting," Harry confessed, absently casting a locking charm at the already closed portrait door.

"But the Enchanting class was-" "Cancelled the year Dumbledore became Headmaster," he interrupted, "I've read 'Hogwarts; A History' too you know," Harry pointed out as Hermione blinked at him in shock. "The previous Headmaster had was a Enchantment Master so he taught the class on the side, since Dumbledore didn't have the necessary skills he was forced to cancel the class".

"Right," Hermione agreed proudly, "How did you find this class? Was it on the Map?"

"I found it last year when looking over the Map," Harry admitted, "I was going to set up in here this year, but then there was the announcement about the Tournament, so I figured I'd wait a bit first".

Hermione just hummed non-committedly as Harry mentally mapped out the room. "So, is this going to be our own personal common room?" she asked as she looked around as well, "Because I for one vote that we keep this a secret. What? I think it's cool that we have our own hideout," she confessed as Harry raised an eyebrow. "Now, tell me everything Dumbledore and the others said," Hermione instructed bluntly, "I assumed from your little... speech... earlier that you're still in the Tournament, otherwise you would have said so outright".

Sighing slowly, Harry began talking, everything spilling from his mouth without end. As he spoke, he used his wand to levitate the desks and chairs out of the way down to the far end of the room, Hermione catching on quickly and helping. "So basically," he finished as he cleaned more dust off the floor and gestured for Hermione to move, "Dumbledore said I have no choice but to compete, after pretty much accusing me of putting my name in despite the way Moody said that kind of magic was beyond me".

"Harry... what are you doing?" Hermione asked hesitantly as she watched him drawing a perfect circle on the floor with his wand.

"The kind of magic that's beyond me," Harry dismissed with a lazy wave of his free hand, "Anyway. Snape's acting like it's a bloody field day, crowning on about how I'm just like my father despite the way everyone knows I don't remember him. Moody's going on about how the Death Eaters are after me, he kept making weird faces at Karkaroff when he said that too," he added thoughtfully. "All of Gryffindor now believes I'm a cheat and a liar for telling them the truth. And how in Merlin's name can't I draw this circle right when the first one was completely perfect?"

"What are you doing, Harry?" Hermione asked again, this time clearly suspicious of the obvious ritual circle he was attempting to draw on the floor between them.

"Like I said. The kind of magic that's beyond me," Harry repeated, "Do you trust me Hermione? Then trust that I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't certain," he pressed when she nodded slowly.

"You said it was stupid, dangerous and would likely get you killed," Hermione blurted, looking horrified as she finally realised what was going on.

"Yeah. All of the above," Harry agreed as he moved on to drawing the runes between the circles. "Here," he continued, pausing to take the box and book out of his robes and setting them on the floor. "Read this," he ordered as he handed her the letter tucked between the pages of the book.

"Dear Harry," Hermione began, drifting between reading aloud and in her head. "You have an Uncle?"

"Had. He died before I was born," Harry confirmed, "His middle name was Harry, actually, I'm named after him. He took two dozen Death Eaters with him when he died".

"Huh".

Hermione was silent as Harry slowly completed the ritual circle on the floor, consulting with the book beside him as he drew.

"So let me get this straight," Hermione said emotionlessly, "You've decided to abandon me and the rest of the wizarding world because they've turned on you every year you've been here?"

Harry paused.

"What?"

"It clearly states here, that upon completing the ritual you'll lose your magic," Hermione growled, a breeze tugging at Harry's hair and making him glance up at his friend cautiously. "And because you can't do magic, you'll be forced to leave Hogwarts, and me".

"Did you read the next paragraph?" Harry asked nervously, not liking the way his friend's magic was making her hair float around her head. "I won't be losing my magic," he explained as Hermione read, "I'll be... upgrading it, so to speak".

When Hermione's hair returned to normal, Harry let out a silent sigh of relief before returning to drawing the circle. "Is this entirely risk-free?" she asked slowly, "This ritual?"

"If it was, would it be dangerous and potentially fatal?" Harry countered, clapping his hands together as he finished the final rune and stepped away to view his handiwork. "Don't answer that," he added quickly, "Just help me make sure I drew everything correctly".

Ignoring Hermione's grumbling the two of them checked every single rune with the one drawn in the thin book he was holding.

"I still want a better explanation before letting you do this, you know," Hermione warned when they were done.

"My Uncle, Hadrian Dorian Potter, was born almost ten years before my father was," Harry explained with a shrug, "Except he's not really my Uncle, he's my grandfather's bastard son. Anyway, it just so happens that his mother was a muggle".

"I don't see how that's relevant," Hermione muttered

"Yes you do. The fresh blood," Harry pointed out, "The Potter line, several hundred years ago, were rather well known for popping out a different breed of magic user. But, instead of being Shaman, or Druids, these were more powerful than Wizards".

"They're also dark beings," Hermione interrupted, "Ones that you can only be born as, not be made into".

"Unless you were born as one and had your magic bound before the first full moon," Harry corrected. "Seriously? Did you not read the letter? Second to last paragraph," he cited, making Hermione snatch up the letter to begin reading as he started undressing. "It's only like a dozen words, 'On the 31st of June, ten minutes to midnight, you were born. You had Hadrian's eyes'. That's like a sign that I took after my Uncle".

"That's sixteen words," Hermione mumbled out weakly. "Do you know what this means, Harry?"

Harry shrugged as he grabbed what was inside the box and stepped in the middle of the circle, shivering in just a pair of ratty boxers. "That I'll need a new wand, and I'll be expelled from Hogwarts the moment the Tournament is finished?"

"No, it me-" Hermione's sudden loss of words made him look up, a vial of blood held in his right hand. "Harry... what are you doing?"

"A potentially fatal blood ritual designed to reach into my very magical core and shatter it?" Harry asked innocently.

"Blood?" Hermione squeaked out.

"Oh its fine, the Ministry can't do anything when they find out about this. My parents are dead, and this is my own blood," he explained.

"Harry. Please don't," Hermione whispered softly, staring into his eyes as he uncorked the vial.

"Without this Hermione, I won't survive the Tournament".

"We'll find a way," she promised.

"I've already found one," Harry corrected as he tipped the vial back and swallowed the mouthful of his own blood, not having the time to grimace at the taste as he started chanting.

He'd win this bloody Tournament, his way.

RITUAL

I'm not entirely sure about what exactly it is that Harry was born as. When I came up with this idea I never got as far as deciding that rather pivotal plot point, so instead I decided to just leave it open like this.