A/N: Sorry about the wait, I've been a bit busy with spring break and midterms lately. Been sitting on this one for a little while. Hopefully, the timeframe for Chapter 5 is shorter.
This gets a bit more exciting, and we can finally start deviating a bit from the established sequence of events.
As always, I don't own Harry Potter or any associated characters.
Thanks again to my beta reader marvelousromulus
Harry watched as one of the school's barn owls flew off into the distance, carrying his letter to Sirius. He had barely remembered not to use Hedwig to send it. When he came into the owlery, Hedwig had perched herself on his arm, and Harry couldn't help the tears that came as he stroked his beloved pet.
Hedwig irritably chirped at him as she pecked at Harry's arm.
"I'm sorry, you're just too recognizable," Harry told the irate owl. "Besides, it's very nice to see you again."
Flapping her wings, Hedwig hooted at him as she floated up towards the rafters.
As he trudged back to the common room, Harry thought about what he had written to Sirius.
Sirius,
I hope you're doing well and taking good care of Buckbeak. I know you told me to keep you updated, so here goes:
Just the other night, I was entered into the Triwizard Tournament against my will. The current theory is that someone wants me dead. Don't worry though, I already know the first task: Dragons. Of course, I have a plan to beat it too.
I hope to hear from you soon, it's been so long.
All my love,
Harry
He figured it might sound a bit out of place, especially because as long as Sirius was concerned, they barely had any time together at the end of third year. But Harry couldn't help himself; he missed his godfather, and the chance to see him again, to live with him and be a proper family… Well that was something special indeed.
The next few days were to be expected, albeit rather miserable for Harry. Everyone was convinced that Harry had entered himself into the tournament, but only the Gryffindors were pleased with this outcome. The Hufflepuffs were being uncharacteristically unfriendly towards him and the Gryffindor house as a whole, but at least Harry understood that they felt cheated because of their champion. Ravenclaw wasn't much better, as most of them thought Harry wanted more fame for himself, so he decided to cheat and trick the Goblet into choosing him as well. And of course, the Slytherins were being bastards like usual, so really nothing had changed on their part.
The tall, handsome Cedric had become somewhat of an icon overnight. In fact, Harry was having trouble determining who was more popular at this point, Cedric or Victor. The last time he had seen the sixth-year Hufflepuff he was being accosted by a small crowd of girls as he sat at lunch, a reaction mirroring Krum's own fan club that hung around him in the library.
Ron still wasn't talking to Harry, and Harry was unsure of how he felt about it. On one hand, Ron's death in the previous timeline still stung, and Harry knew he would always consider the redhead one of his best friends. However, things had changed.
Fourth-year Ron was very different from the one who had fought and died alongside Harry during the Battle of Hogwarts. He wondered how Ron would fit in with the current dynamic of Harry and Hermione when he would finally come to his senses about the tournament. Especially since they were technically three years older than everyone in their year at Hogwarts.
"Well that was an hour of my life I'll never get back," Harry said as he and Hermione walked out of Flitwick's class.
They had been learning Summoning Charms, and Harry had actually fallen asleep during Flitwick's instruction. Hermione, as studious as she was, fared a little better. She spent most of the class absentmindedly twirling a strand of her hair and scribbling in her notebook.
"I really need to find something worthwhile to do," Hermione huffed. "We could both easily pass our exams right now."
"I was thinking the same thing," Harry said, watching Cedric Diggory walk past. He was followed by a sizable entourage of girls, some of whom eyed Harry as if he was something they had scraped off their shoe. As he passed, Cedric gave Harry a friendly nod, which he returned gratefully.
"Hmm," Hermione mused as they made their way to potions. "A little independent study wouldn't hurt."
In potions class, Malfoy continued to try and antagonize him, with the rather crude Potter Stinks badges making a reappearance yet again. Harry and Hermione resolutely ignored him. He had much better things to worry about, and really couldn't be bothered by the fourth-year Slytherin's antics.
The task of destroying the Horcruxes loomed in his mind. The only one readily accessible was the diadem; he couldn't get to the locket since it was behind the Fidelius charm at Grimmauld Place and the secret had yet to be shared with him.
He vaguely remembered that Dumbledore had found the Gaunt ring in the ruins of their cottage in Little Hangleton, but he was unsure as to what enchantments were in place there.
And he had no clue how they would breach Bellatrix's vault at Gringotts to retrieve the Hufflepuff cup. Perhaps using the invisibility cloak would help, he thought.
A knock on the door to the potions classroom interrupted his thoughts. Colin Creevy entered the room, flashing Harry an eager smile.
"What is it?" Snape asked Colin angrily.
"Mr. Bagman sent me to take Harry Potter upstairs," Colin said
"I completely forgot about the wand weighing," Harry whispered to Hermione. She looked up at him distractedly from their potion, her bushy hair more of a mess than usual.
"I really don't fancy a talk with Rita," Harry scoffed.
Hermione grabbed his sleeve.
"Rita Skeeter!" she whispered breathlessly.
She continued at Harry's confused look.
"Having a journalist on your side could really help in the future, Harry," she said, still holding his sleeve. "And it'll definitely make this year a bit more bearable. For both of us."
"But how am I-" Harry started, before remembering Rita's animagus form. "Oh, that's brilliant Hermione."
"Well we wouldn't want to keep the photographers waiting, wouldn't we, Mr. Potter," Snape sneered. Hermione quickly let go of Harry, returning her focus back to her brewing antidote.
Harry couldn't help himself. "Does my hair look okay, Professor? Wouldn't want it to be a mess for the cameras," he said with a smile.
"Get out, Potter!" Snape snapped.
Gathering his stuff and exchanging a knowing look with Hermione, Harry followed Colin out of the dungeon.
-:-:-:-
"So, Harry," Rita Skeeter said, pulling him into a broom cupboard. She shut the door behind them, taking her Quick-Quotes Quill out of her handbag with a flourish.
"Could you start with why you decided to enter the Triwizard Tournament?" she asked sweetly. "How could a young boy of only twelve years old possibly hope to compete with much older and more skilled-"
"Fourteen," Harry interrupted her. "I'm fourteen, not twelve."
Rita looked at him disparagingly. "Silly me, I must not have heard you correctly."
"I wonder why," Harry snapped. "Oh yeah, it's because I didn't say anything before you began rattling off questions."
She scowled at him overtop her jeweled spectacles. But Harry wasn't finished.
He snatched up the still-scribbling Quick-Quotes Quill and brandished it at Rita Skeeter.
"Listen closely Rita," Harry said sternly. "I've had more than my fair share of bad press, so I think we should make an arrangement."
One of Rita's tapered eyebrows shot up.
"Oh but Harry my dear," she said smoothly. "There's no such thing as good or bad press."
"Well then you wouldn't mind an article or two about illegal animagi. You know, a few paragraphs about legal consequences, the different forms and such. Oh, particularly water beetles-"
"You've made your point," Rita snapped. She moved to grab the quill from Harry, but he snatched it out of her reach.
"No, but I'm about to," Harry said. "I don't want to see any slanderous articles regarding the personal life of me or my friends published. Otherwise, feel free to report the tournament events freely. But be warned, if I don't think an article about me or those close to me is in good taste, I might feel inclined to write one of my own."
Rita's eyes narrowed at the young boy in front of her. This interview wasn't going nearly as well as she had planned. Yet, an opportunity did present itself.
"Well I suppose I don't exactly have much of a choice," Rita said. "However, you know better than most that the Boy Who Lived, now a Triwizard champion, cannot hide from the press forever. And I greatly doubt you can bribe all of them."
"What's your point?"
"Having a journalist in your pocket might work to your favor, since you'll get a say in what gets written about you. So why don't you and I sit down sometime soon and have ourselves a proper interview; exclusive of course," Rita said, a wide smile across her face.
Remembering Hermione's words about getting the media on their side, Harry relented a bit.
"Fine," Harry growled. "Just as long as I get final say on what gets published."
"Can't hold the press at bay forever, Harry," Rita trilled, opening the door to release him.
"Oh and could you be a dear and get that Diggory boy for me, he and I are going to have a nice little chat in here," she said with a grin.
-:-:-:-
"How'd your talk with Rita go?" Hermione asked as she and Harry walked along the lake later that day.
Harry sighed. "She agreed to not write anything bad about us as long as I did an actual interview with her."
"Agreed?" Hermione questioned.
"I did threaten to tell people she was an animagus," Harry admitted, while Hermione nodded knowingly.
Reaching a familiar clearing, Hermione set her bag against the cherry blossom tree that had become their regular spot. Harry tossed his bag alongside hers as she pulled out her notebook.
The hoot of an owl startled them, as the same barn owl Harry had sent to Sirius descended on them. It dropped the letter towards Harry, who reached up to catch it. Opening it, he tilted it so Hermione could read it too.
Harry,
I can't risk saying everything in a letter, so if you are able to, meet me alone by the fire in the Gryffindor tower at one in the morning on November 22nd. It's been a while since I've been able to speak with you.
As for the tournament, stay on your toes. Be careful with who you trust, as whoever entered your name into the Goblet is anything but a friend. Although I doubt they'll try anything overt just yet, with Dumbledore and Moody around. Keep me posted if anything comes up.
Buckbeak and I are doing just fine. I hope you and that pretty witch of yours are holding up as well. Remember to let me know about the 22nd.
Love,
Sirius
Hermione looked at Harry, her cheeks red. His face burning, Harry quickly closed the letter.
"Why must he antagonize me," Harry groaned.
"He's your godfather, that's what godfathers do," Hermione said, pulling a piece of parchment and a quill from Harry's bag and handing it to him.
Harry scribbled a quick response to Sirius, and sent it off with the barn owl once more.
"Speaking of scheduling in advance," Harry said as they watched the bird fly off into the distance, "We should retrieve some basilisk fangs and destroy the diadem as soon as possible."
"As long as we do it after the first task," Hermione said. "You should probably get some practice if you're going to use your broom; I know it's been a while since you've flown."
"You're right," Harry said, turning towards the castle. "Accio Firebolt."
After about a minute of waiting, they could see the broom streaking towards them over the treetops. Harry stuck his hand out, his broom flying into his grasp. The smooth wood of his Firebolt felt brand new as he admired it.
"You'll be okay here?" Harry asked Hermione as he mounted the broom.
Opening her notebook, Hermione sat with her back against the cherry blossom tree. "I'll be doing a bit of independent study," she said a bit absentmindedly. "I need to figure out something to keep classes from becoming too boring."
"I'll be back soon," Harry reassured her before he shot off across the lake. Something's bothering her, he thought. I'll talk to her once I land, but she's right about me being out of practice.
Soaring across the lake, Harry realized just how much he had missed flying. The wind in his hair, the adrenaline coursing through his body, the sheer speed; they all made flying such a thrill. The water glistened in the afternoon light and the lake's shore sped by as Harry flew his way past the castle.
It's time to try some real tricks, he thought as he turned around.
Hermione watched as Harry skimmed the surface of the lake at high speed, the turbulent wake rippling the otherwise glass-like surface. Nearing the shore, he suddenly shot up, ascending hundreds of feet near-vertically in a matter of seconds. His climb tapered off, and his broom wobbled slightly as he slowly descended.
As he neared the clearing, Harry hopped off his broom, his feet skidding across the grass.
"Whoa," he gasped, stumbling slightly. Hermione moved to get up, her expression filling with concern.
"I'm good," Harry said as he dropped down beside her. "My vision got all blurry and weird as I went up just now."
Hermione relaxed. "Try clenching your thighs next time," she said.
Harry chuckled.
"Don't be weird," she admonished. "It stops blood from pooling in your legs when you accelerate sharply; it's something fighter pilots do it all the time."
"Thanks, I'll try it next time," Harry said sincerely.
He peered at her notebook. "What are you up to? Making a list?"
Hermione nodded.
"Rather uncharacteristic of me I know," she said with a small smile. "Since you mentioned training to fight the day after your name came out of the Goblet, I'm outlining some things to start researching. So we can both start training."
"Transfiguration?" Harry asked, pointing to one of her notes. "We already know how to do that."
"Yes, but we don't have practice using it for combat. I figured it might be a good place to start," Hermione said.
Hermione bit her lip. "While we're on the topic, I wanted to run something by you."
"I also thought Fiendfyre might be useful to learn for fighting," she said nervously. "Although I'm not quite sure how to begin. It's exceedingly difficult to control, and I dare say even the restricted section here at Hogwarts won't have much on it. Is that too dark, because I can take it off-"
"No, keep it," Harry said. "That's a great idea actually, as long as we're able to control it of course. We wouldn't have to rely on basilisk fangs to destroy Horcruxes either."
"Okay, I'll keep it," Hermione said, with a hesitant nod. "It's going to take time though, maybe a year or so. And that's if I can find any books on it."
"Your list is fantastic," Harry said. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help-"
He stopped abruptly. Hermione's hands were shaking.
"Hermione," Harry said cautiously. "Are you okay? You seem a bit distracted recently."
Hermione looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears. She was breathing very fast, and the words tumbled out of her mouth like an avalanche.
"It's just- there's so much to do and the chance of everyone dying, or you dying or us messing it up-" she sobbed, tears falling freely now. "Everywhere I go I see living ghosts, Harry. The faces of the dead."
"And I died, I died! I know I'm back now but I just feel like we're going to fail- like we failed last time-" she stopped talking as she began to weep uncontrollably.
Hermione leaned into Harry, who wrapped his arms around her comfortingly as she cried.
"They won't die this time Hermione, and neither will you or I," he said consolingly to the trembling girl.
"I don't- want to fail," she whimpered into his chest.
"We won't Hermione, and you didn't fail last time," Harry said. "I failed you, I should've stopped Voldemort, but I wasn't prepared."
He paused, taking a deep breath. "It won't happen a second time."
Gradually Hermione's sobs subsided and her breathing returned to normal as her body stilled.
"I'm sorry," she sniffed, still held in Harry's embrace.
"Don't be," Harry said, loosening his hug. "You don't have to hide how you feel; we look after each other now, remember?"
She nodded softly, sitting up straighter with only Harry's hand around her shoulders now.
"I think your study list is truly brilliant, and I mean it when I say I'll help you with anything you need," Harry reassured her. "It's you and me."
Hermione gave him a faint smile. "We're in this together."
"Are you feeling a bit better now?" Harry asked.
"Yes, thank you," she said. Hermione picked up her notebook and stuffed it back in her bag.
"With this list I don't think I'll ever be bored in class again," she said. "I may have to conduct a small raid of the library however."
Harry smiled as he stood, offering a hand to Hermione.
"That's going to have to wait for now. We should head inside, or we'll miss dinner."
-:-:-:-
The night of November 22nd arrived faster than either Harry or Hermione anticipated. Already knowing that the task involved dragons, Harry saw no reason why he should be sneaking around in the forbidden forest with Hagrid to look for them. That, and he and Hermione had yet to go into Hogsmeade, so Hagrid hadn't actually invited Harry to come see the dragons that night.
Looking at his watch, Harry crept downstairs to the deserted common room a few minutes before 1 in the morning. Taking a seat by the fireplace, he stared intently at the fire waiting for Sirius's face to emerge.
There was a soft padding of feet behind him. Startled, Harry whirled around.
"Just me," a barefoot Hermione whispered, carrying a blanket.
She sat down on the couch next to Harry, tucking her legs up and throwing the blanket over both of them.
"He's going to be worried about you," Hermione said as she fought her bushy hair into a loose ponytail.
"I know. It's just going to be nice to talk to him," Harry said wistfully. "I just wish we could tell him."
"Tell me what?"
Sirius's head sat in the fire, flames flickering around it.
"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed. "It's so great to see you! How are you? Are you doing-"
"I'm okay Harry," Sirius said. "More importantly, how are you?"
He didn't know how to respond. Memories of the Battle of Hogwarts still haunted his dreams, and while he and Hermione had a plan and were starting to prepare, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that followed him.
"Hanging in there," Harry managed to say. "I have a plan for beating my dragon at least."
Sirius nodded, spraying sparks across the floor. "That's good to hear," he said, his eyes still full of concern. "I hope it's nothing too dangerous."
At this, Hermione, who had cuddled up next to Harry, glared at him disapprovingly.
"However, dragons might be the least of your worries," Sirius continued. "The dark mark at the Quidditch World Cup and now a known Death Eater arriving at the school for a tournament."
Harry knew Sirius was right, even if he was referring to Karkaroff. There was so much more left to do.
"Not to mention a series of disappearances in Albania. This doesn't bode well Harry," Sirius said darkly.
Hermione leaned over to Harry. "He's right," she whispered. "We should begin destroying Horcruxes while we can. Starting with the diadem."
Harry nodded, turning back to the fire to see a smile on Sirius's face.
"Well don't you two look cozy," he grinned.
Hermione's cheeks grew even rosier in the orange glow of the fire.
Suddenly, Sirius perked up, his smile fading. "Someone's coming. I should go, I'll write to you soon."
He disappeared with a pop and a cloud of embers as they heard footsteps coming down the spiral staircase.
They both turned around to see Ron standing in the middle of the common room in his maroon pajamas.
"Who were you guys talking to?"
Harry heard Hermione sigh next to him. Ron was their friend, or at least Harry still considered him one. Some honesty couldn't hurt.
"Just had a floo call with Sirius," Harry said.
Ron looked at Hermione accusingly. "Why's she here then?"
"Well," Harry said. "I asked her to-"
Hermione cut him off. "I'm here Ronald, because I'm helping Harry with the tournament."
"Whatever," Ron snapped. "I shouldn't have disturbed you two, of course you'd choose his side."
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Ron just turned and stormed back upstairs, followed by Hermione's icy glare.
"Let's go to bed," Harry said as Hermione stood and gathered up her blanket.
"Goodnight Hermione."
"Goodnight Harry."
-:-:-:-
Harry sat in the Great Hall the next morning, eating his porridge. He planned to spend most of the day flying, although he did promise Hermione he would help with their war research. She sat across from him, engrossed in an old, dusty book she had borrowed from the restricted section, pausing only to take a bite of her toast.
Ever since they had come back, she had managed to slightly tame her wild hair, with a little help from Sleekeazy's. He also noticed that her front teeth were straighter and not protruding as they used to be.
That's right, Harry thought. Madame Pomfrey fixed them last time after Malfoy hexed her. But that didn't happen this time around…
"Hermione," Harry started cautiously, putting down his spoon. Her brown eyes looked up from her book.
"What happened to your teeth?"
Hermione's eyes widened as her hand flew to her mouth.
"Oh no," she exclaimed. "I thought they looked good, did I mess something up?"
"No, it looks great," Harry said. "I barely noticed any difference. But why?"
She moved her hand away from her mouth, smiling.
"Well I thought that since Malfoy didn't hex me, I'll just fix them myself since it bothered me for the longest time," Hermione said. "Do they really look good?"
"They look perfect," Harry reassured her.
A figure at the next table caught his eye. Hermione turned to follow his gaze, finding Cedric Diggory seated at the Hufflepuff table laughing with his friends.
"Did you tell him about the dragons?" Hermione asked, tapping her book absentmindedly.
"Damn," Harry said as he stood. "I should do that right now."
As he walked over to the Hufflepuff's table, Cedric caught sight of him, the smile fading off his face. His friends grew quiet and gave Harry a variety of looks; anger, jealousy, and annoyance. But Cedric just looked at him earnestly.
"Good morning Harry," he said cordially.
"Cedric," Harry said. "I need to talk with you."
"I'll catch you guys later," he said, standing up. They walked over to the side of the Great Hall, out of earshot.
"The first task involves dragons," Harry said to the older boy. "All the other contestants already know, I just thought it would be fair - and safe - to let you know too."
Cedric nodded. "Thanks Harry," he said gratefully. Harry moved to go back to his table, but Cedric grabbed his arm.
"About my friends," he said. "I tried to tell them you didn't enter yourself, but they don't want to listen. I'm sorry about everything you're going through."
Harry brushed it off. "Don't worry about it, it's not your fault," he said nonchalantly. "Let them think what they want."
Making his way back to the Gryffindor table, Harry sat and finished his breakfast. Meanwhile, Hermione continued to read, only occasionally looking up at Harry to point out something she had read.
As he and Hermione walked out of the Great Hall, Harry heard his name called.
"Potter, a word."
Mad-Eye Moody - or rather Barty Crouch Jr in disguise - hobbled towards them, his wooden leg thumping against the stone floor.
Next to Harry, Hermione reflexively reached for her wand while her free hand came in front of Harry, pushing him slightly behind her.
"He just wants to talk about the dragons," Harry whispered. Hermione relaxed, but didn't leave Harry's side.
"That's a righteous thing you did Potter," Moody continued, undisturbed by Hermione's actions. He glanced around, and seeing nobody nearby, he leaned in.
"But have you made a plan for your dragon yet?" he asked, regarding him carefully.
"Oh don't worry Professor," Harry said with a smirk. "I'm more than prepared."