A/N: So… Hermione.

I think I've said this before, but an important thing to remember with this fic is that a lot of characters have to go through their arcs a hell of a lot faster than they did in canon. Ron and Hermione are the two big ones, because they both have a lot of character work that while not all of it is crammed into fourth year, a lot of it is. Hermione comes back, and she comes back a lot sooner than Ron does, but Hermione leaving is more important for HARRY than anything. See, the reason for Hermione feeling like she doesn't belong as friends with Harry anymore, and more importantly, why she doesn't believe Harry, is because he has lied and manipulated her and been a total arse of a friend. Something a lot of teenagers do. Harry needs to learn from his mistakes that I've set up here in the reaches of this story, and it needs to be realistic. We see here that Harry is moping about the loss of Hermione, but he doesn't do anything about it. Even if he's acknowledged his mistakes.

While they won't ever be best friends again, they'll have some... reparations, if you will.

Chapter 16: Tasks, First and Unexpected

Dear Elizabeth,

I know I've only written to you once since I got back to Hogwarts, but I figured this is important enough news to discuss with you.

I don't want to put too much in a letter, so I can't explain exactly why I think all this is happening, but let's just say it's probably the usual culprit. Try and piece together what you know about my magical life so far to understand what I mean.

This year, Hogwarts is hosting this Tournament thing. It's ancient. Hasn't happened in over a century but they decided that now was apparently a good time to bring it back. Now, I'll be honest, if there wasn't an age limit, I would have entered myself. Ginny agrees somewhat, though I think it's for different reasons.

Anyway, it's this super popular international event. There are schools from the continent that are living here with us, and there is a Champion from each school selected to compete in three tasks. It's worthless, really. I mean, eternal glory and a sack of gold are alright, I suppose, but yeah… it's totally nothing.

Now, on the night of the Champion selection, the magical artifact that chooses the Champions sapat out mine and Ginny's names. Neither of us entered ourselves or asked someone else to enter us. It's incredibly frustrating and is just another failure in an ever-growing list of failures of our dear headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

This Tournament is designed for witches and wizards that have reached the age of seventeen. I'd just like to say that me and Ginny haven't got much of a chance, but we've agreed to at least try. This past week since the ceremony, we've been spending nearly all of our time in the library. Hell, I've been skiving off History to spend more time learning as much magic as possible. What's even more irritating, is that we don't know what the tasks are! Remus is a bloody professor, and he claims he hasn't got a clue as to what we have to face. All they told us was that it'll test our bravery or something.

All this to say, I'm as good as dead.

Hello Liz, this is Ginny writing now. Harry's a bit dramatic and doesn't see that he's truly a fantastic wizard. Ironic, in my opinion, seeing as he's the top of his year this term. I see that Harry's already explained the Tournament and our involvement, so let me share some of the juicy personal details.

We've got one friend. Colin Creevey. Everyone else is either completely ignoring us or praising us for fooling the Goblet of Fire, and treating us like gods. (The Goblet is the artifact that selected the Champions - Harry) Yes, this includes Ron and Hermione. Granted, Harry bolloxed up his relationship with Hermione well before this Tournament scandal, and I was a bit of an idiot about it as well, but Ron and Harry were doing great. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that Ron was becoming – (and still is -Harry) – a better wizard. He's way better in his classes and his magical skill is improving all the time. Him and Harry were playing around with these spells they found in this old journal of Remus's. They were bonding over loads of new things. But I suppose Ron was just hiding his concerns over his relationship with Harry. See, my brother is a bit of a prat sometimes. He doesn't like that Harry's got friends other than himself, - (Ginny is way too harsh on Ron. It's not that he's jealous of my other friendships - well, maybe he is, but that doesn't matter. He's more angry and sad because he feels as though I've changed loads since last term, and he doesn't believe that I'm the same Harry who was his best mate or whatever. Either way, it's ridiculous, but I can't fault him for thinking that way. I've been a bad friend to the both of them. -Harry) – so now he's going on about how Harry's not a good bloke and all that. Doesn't really matter, to be honest. I feel like Ron is just jealous that he doesn't get all this fame and prestige. The git. (If I was the sixth boy in a family of successful and unique people, I'd be just as insecure. -Harry)

I hope you're well. We're as good as we can be. If you want, we'll send some of the articles that get written about us. Remus has warned Harry that some of the stuff they'll write will be pretty offensive, not to mention inaccurate. Personally, I can't wait to read them. I reckon they'll be a laugh.

Anyway, maybe we'll get to see you soon? I don't know how the break is going to work for the holidays, we're supposed to stay here but I don't think I'll want to.

How's the café? Are there any new arrivals in town? Fill me in!

I wish my life was as simple as yours, Liz, enjoy it to its fullest.

Until next time,

Love, Ginny, and I suppose Harry as well.

(Yes, Elizabeth, my love for you is everlasting! -Harry)

Harry Potter and Colin Creevey walked down the halls in relative silence. Colin, so far, was the only person who believed that Harry and Ginny had not entered themselves personally. That wasn't to say that Harry and Ginny's choosing was not popular. Far from it. The majority of the school's population found it to be another incredible Potter adventure. Except this time, they'd get to watch instead of hearing of it second-hand.

The older years were not so pleased. Angelina had been fine with it, going as far as to say that she would have regretted it if she'd been chosen. For the rest of the school, however, the seventh years, and many of the sixth years, were somewhat resentful.

There were some, however, who were most definitely not happy about Harry and Ginny's place in the tournament. Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and the usual gang of Slytherin thugs, were very much opposed to their choosing. Generally, Harry's place was left alone, especially by the Slytherins. It was Ginny who received the most scrutiny. Her role in the attacks two years ago was fueling a fire of resentment through many at Hogwarts. Justin Finch-Fletchley was particularly harsh. Her and Harry's ability to speak parseltongue was now common knowledge, and it was rare for anyone to deny the fact that there was a good chance they'd both go dark.

Harry could ignore the rumours thrown at himself; it was those thrown towards Ginny that made him livid. He'd made the mistake of threatening Justin a couple days ago if he didn't shut up about Ginny. He was still being watched carefully by the school's occupants.

Hermione and Ron were both avoiding Harry and Ginny; though Ron would never miss an opportunity to defend his sister from the harsh words being spread around. Ron, Harry could understand the resentment, but Hermione Harry was at a complete loss. True, he'd been a bit of an arse. More importantly, he hadn't actually apologized. He'd gone through the motions of explaining why he should, but he never bit the spell and went through with an apology.

His mum continued to berate him on that fact.

Not that his poor relationship was for a lack of trying. Harry would attempt to corner her, but she'd turn in the other direction. Ginny found it immature. But Harry only said that it was immature of Ginny to think that Hermione's behaviour was immature. He missed Hermione. She wasn't the same as Ron in any way shape or form, and if he had to choose, he'd be forced to say he'd want Ron back sooner, but that was only because Hermione was more of a sister than best mate.

Which made it hurt so much more that she was avoiding him. And it was all his fault.

And so, what had quickly become a group of five, had dwindled down to three once more. Harry, Colin and Ginny were seen together quite a bit. Their runes class was still Harry's favourite, and he continued to excel in most of his core classes. Charms was still a weak spot, but Flitwick didn't seem to mind so much.

Now, Harry walked silently with Colin, on their way to a press conference and wand ceremony. He had already been informed by Colin that Ginny was already there. They approached a door and Colin bade Harry good luck. Sighing, thinking about all the things that had gone wrong over the course of the past five months, Harry pushed open the door.

Immediately about a dozen cameras flashed and Harry shielded his eyes.

'Oh, would you wait until he's in the bloody room?' that was Sirius. Relieved that there was at least one responsible – Well, familiar, at least, - adult nearby, Harry walked towards a table at the back of the room. Krum, Fleur and Ginny were all gathered around it. Mr. Ollivander was there as well, staring at Harry intently.

Now that he could actually see, Harry counted nearly fifteen reporters. Each was obviously from a different magical culture. There were house elves holding cameras for their respective newspapers, reporters eyed Harry hungrily. It made him extremely uncomfortable.

'Remember what you said about not having to do an interview? I think our luck has run out.'

'Well, we may be able to have a bit of fun with it.'

Smiling slightly at the prospect, Harry joined Ginny, standing shoulder to shoulder with her. The reporters' eyes seemed to bulge unanimously at the closeness of the two Hogwarts champions. Truthfully, Harry just wanted an anchor to some semblance of normalcy. To him, at this moment, that was Ginny.

Ollivander inspected everyone's wands with distinct care. He didn't appreciate Krum's wand, which came from a foreign wand maker. Fleur seemed to have been so self-centered that she'd had a wand made out of her own grandmother's hair. Harry and Ginny both rolled their eyes at Fleur's contemptuous looks thrown about the room. Ginny's wand once again received a regular inspection. It was Harry's that Ollivander seemed most interested in.

Harry approached the man and held out the Elder Wand. Ollivander took it and frowned deeply before his eyes went wide as saucers. He suddenly seemed quite young as he stared at Harry in open shock.

Harry cringed and tried to block the reporters from seeing Ollivander's reaction to his wand. 'Thestral hair? Mr. Potter? Wood of an elder tree? I do believe you are in possession-'

'Does it work?' Harry interrupted. He was eager for this to end as quickly as possible.

Ollivander shook himself and gave it a wave. An enormous shower of sparks flew out the tip as he hastily handed the Elder Wand back to Harry.

'You never saw this, do you understand?' said Harry quietly. Ollivander nodded shakily before returning to his usual mysterious self. He proclaimed that all the wands were safe and not altered. Harry realized that if Ollivander had been honest with the committee, he wouldn't have been allowed to compete with the Elder Wand. He felt that an unbeatable wand would probably form a distinct advantage in a magical Tournament.

The sheer number of reporters gathered around made it so that the four Champions had to sit themselves down at a large table, each taking part in a group conference. Ludo Bagman was in charge of appointing the reporters, so he pointed to a dark-skinned wizard with a strange hat that Harry had never seen before. 'This is a question for Mr. Bagman,' he spoke unaccented. Or at least, spoke like Harry did, 'Why are there four champions?'

Bagman seemed unnerved by the question but clapped in his jovial manner before speaking all the same, 'Well, we don't know. I suggest you ask our youngest competitors for those answers.'

If Harry could, he would have throttled the man. Sirius stood in the back of the room, arms crossed, watching the conference apprehensively. Bagman was just such a spineless twit, passing the question off to a couple of teenagers.

'Oh, yes alright. Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, why are there four Champions?'

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Ginny beat him to it. 'Excellent question!' she began in an excited voice, then continued in a monotone one, 'We haven't got a clue.' Harry supressed a smile by looking down at his lap. He could have sworn he'd heard Sirius cough to stifle a laugh. 'Neither me, nor Harry, entered this Tournament of our own volition. We don't know why the Ministry and Professor Dumbledore's measures failed to stop our selection, but here we are.'

The quick-quotes quills around the room were scribbling everything down at a break-neck pace. A dozen hands rose into the air and Bagman pointed at a short, balding wizard. 'Thank you, Mr. Bagman. So, you say you didn't enter your name,' he paused and gave them an over-done wink, 'So, how do you feel you sit in standings for Triwizard Champion?'

Harry, deciding to play off the shell of confidence and indifference Ginny was clearly displaying, answered before Ginny got the chance to open her mouth. 'Oh, well, I'd reckon we're dead last. Seeing as neither of us have learned how to stun an opponent yet.'

Fleur and Krum both looked at the pair dubiously. As though attempting to detect a lie. The reporters chuckled lightly before a woman started to speak without permission. She had horrible red glasses, an acid green quill with equally revolting green robes. She had a gold crusted tooth and Harry just knew he'd hate this woman.

'Well, before I arrived here for this conference,' she spat the word out as though it had personally offended her. 'I interviewed a few students. You see, I discovered that both you, and Miss Weasley are parselmouths.' The group of reporters gasped at this revelation and began to scribble away the information for their respective articles. Harry saw Sirius move to intervene, but Harry shot him a quick look.

'Yeah, we are. What of it?' said Harry calmly.

The woman drew back in mock amusement. 'Oh, you do know how to make a reporter run wild, Mr. Potter. Tell me, how do you think your parents would react to you entering yourself into this Tournament? Do you think they would be proud of your urge to prove yourself? Or would they be disappointed in your reckless behaviour?' she bit the end of her quill in what Harry was forced to accept was likely a flirtatious stare.

'Why'd she change the subject? I asked her what the problem was, and she just laughed.'

'Because she's a reporter. And you talked her into a corner. Other than a dodgy history, parseltongue isn't inherently evil. It isn't considered dark arts.'

Ginny started snickering and Harry couldn't help but laugh as well. 'Well, seeing as they're dead, I reckon I won't get to know.'

'No, Harry, I'm mortally offended by your reckless behaviour. Believe me, once you return to our family home, you shall be punished in due fashion.'

Harry laughed harder as Ginny quieted. Rita did not expect this response. Perhaps she wished for the tragic hero underdog story.

'Sorry, what's your name?' Harry asked in an artificially cheerful voice.

The reporter seemed taken aback at the fact that Harry Potter did not know who she was. 'Why, Mr. Potter, there is no need to act as though you do not know me! Surely you jest!'

Harry glanced at Ginny who rolled her eyes at him. Was he supposed to know who this woman was?

Thankfully, Mr. Bagman stepped in. 'Remember, Rita, this is an article about the four Champions.'

'Yes, yes of course, Ludo.'

The next dozen questions were general. Each Champion would give their own answer to the question and move on. These varied from, 'How confident do you feel?' to 'What do you intend to do with the prize money?' Harry found it alright when the Rita woman wasn't speaking. Ginny seemed to hate every second of it.

Unfortunately, the questions eventually turned to Harry and Ginny again. It seemed these were mostly British reporters. 'Mr. Potter, we were wondering if you'd be so kind as to answer some of our questions relating to the trials this past July?'

The room quieted considerably, and Fleur seemed rather irritated at the shift in attention. Frankly, Harry couldn't blame her. She'd been selected for this Tournament legitimately. She'd actually wanted this. And here they all sat, two children being bombarded by questions, while the true Champions sat there in awkward silence.

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Bagman seemed curious so Harry knew there was no easy way out of this. He looked up and nodded to Sirius who backed away into the shadows once more. 'Yeah, but this'll be the last time I talk about anything other than the Tournament for the remainder of this event. Does everyone here understand that? From here until the end of the Third Task, the questions are thrown at all four of us equally. I will answer your questions about the tasks, and that's that. Understood?'

Everyone nodded, some rather reluctantly, but Harry figured it was the best he was going to get. 'Right then, you, sir with the purple hat.'

The man seemed taken aback at being addressed by Harry but flipped through his notebook and found his question. 'Why would you personally persecute Lucius Malfoy? He has been a powerful public figure for decades now and has donated to many great causes.'

Harry had never felt this angry before. He glared at the reporter and took a deep breath. 'Lucius Malfoy is the foulest person I have personally encountered. I hate him more than I hate Voldemort,' the room gasped in equal measure and cameras flashed. The quick-quotes-quills danced along the parchment. 'When would these people just accept that it's a name!' Harry thought. 'He deserves no recognition. What I put him in Azkaban for is only a small portion of the crimes he's committed. Naturally, I won't discuss those, seeing as I don't want to start up more controversy. But Lucius Malfoy is not a good man, he is not worth celebrity. He deserves to rot in that cell until the day he dies. Personally, I hope the dementors get to him before his eleven years are up.'

'Too far, Harry.'

And was Lily ever right. The reporters were shocked, even Sirius seemed moderately surprised. Harry, for his part, felt nothing but satisfaction at finally getting the words out. Every time he'd walked past Draco in the hallways, or seen Ginny grow pale at the sound of snake-speech, he'd wanted nothing more than to go to Azkaban and hit Lucius so many times that he would never walk again. These thoughts typically rested around the full moons, and though November's was only a few days away, he hadn't felt like it had affected his feelings too drastically.

'Next question,' he said to the quiet room. Tentative hands rose once more, he pointed to a young witch at the front.

'Mr. Potter, we here at Witch Weekly were wondering when you'd grown up?' she asked with a flustered smile. Harry frowned while Ginny began laughing quietly beside him, though her head was still down, eyes closed. Harry had honestly thought she was trying to sleep. He elbowed her in the ribs, and she shut up.

'I grew,' he said, before pointing to another reporter. He didn't like the inquisitory stare he was receiving from Rita.

'This question is for Miss Weasley,' Ginny's eyes opened, and she rose from the near sleeping position she had been dawning for the majority of the interview. 'We were wondering if you could describe the events of your first year from a first-person perspective?'

It seemed this was the question the majority of the British reporters were trying to get at. Harry watched as Ginny folded her hands in her lap. He gently touched her forearm. The action was hidden behind the table, but it calmed her all the same. Harry leaned on his elbows and sighed. 'You are never to ask that question to her again. Any of you.'

Every head turned to Harry in surprise. Ginny frowned and muttered so only Harry could hear, 'Do not speak for me. This is my story,' Then, to the room at large, said, 'I don't ever want to talk about it with the press. None of you have ever had your mind invaded by dark magic, so don't act as though it is some adventure. It was horrific, and I wanted to die during the entire process. It has left me scarred, and I don't think any of you deserve to know about it.'

Harry turned to stare at her for a moment before returning his gaze to the reporters. He pointed to a stocky man at the back of the room, but Rita intervened.

'Speaking of scars, Miss Weasley… Mr. Potter, Harry, where on earth did you receive those scars?' she pointed directly at his face and Harry furrowed his brow. He heard the quiet intake of breath from his left, where Ginny sat, but didn't understand what she was getting at. Harry turned to Sirius, who's eyes were wide with concern.

'I'm sorry, what scars?' Harry asked, genuinely.

Rita smiled. 'Oh, don't play games again, Harry. The lines on the right side of your face! Where did you acquire those? The world has only ever known of the lightning bolt. What is the story behind these, I wonder?'

The room was deadly quiet, awaiting Harry's story. Harry wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor and apologize profusely to Krum and Fleur. He also had absolutely no idea what Rita was on about, but for now, he decided to play along. 'That would be the Whomping Willow. It's a tree here on the grounds. My friends' cat ran under it, and I tried to grab him. The branches swung at me and… well… here we are,' he finished lamely. It pained him somewhat to think of the fact that Hermione, and her cat, Crookshanks, didn't seem to be friends with him anymore.

All the reporters frowned at the lack of an interesting story. All save Rita, who smiled knowingly at Harry in a way that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

'Right! That is enough for today. Run along now, these students must return to their classes!' Bagman smiled at the reporters as they rose from the table. Harry grabbed Ginny by the arm and pulled her out of her chair. Steering her towards Sirius.

'What the fuck is she talking about? What scars?'

Sirius cringed but Ginny just traced a finger down the side of his face. 'There's a line, from your transformations. It's really faint but the light must have been hitting it just right,' she whispered. Just then, a camera flashed. Ginny froze, her finger still lying on Harry's face, and groaned.

'Rita, the conference is over. You are to leave the school grounds immediately,' said Sirius forcefully, pushing her, and her reporter, out the door.

'Odds of that being the front page?' Harry asked.

'If it wasn't, I'd be spectating this Tournament on the twenty-fourth.' Ginny replied. 'At least she didn't hear what I'd said. She can't know about your… affliction,'

Harry groaned and let his face fall in his hands. He stood there for a moment before looking up. 'Right. Meet after dinner for more practice?'

'Yup.'

Harry and Ginny, sometimes joined by Colin, had been training practically non-stop since their names came out of the Goblet. They'd taken multiple books out of the restricted section and had used the journal that seemed to have belonged to Remus, which was full of minor hexes and charms, to try and fill their repertoire of spells.

So far, Harry felt like there was merit to the idea of up and running from Hogwarts. He hoped that the other Champions were as in the dark as Harry and Ginny were, because whatever came for them on the twenty-fourth would be a surprise.

Hermione and Ron continued to ignore Harry and Ginny. Though Hermione was less openly rude to Harry. Ron hadn't come round on Ginny, Harry felt like it would take a long time for that injury to heal, but he had openly defended her on multiple occasions. He had not done so with Harry. Though, he hadn't contributed to the rumours either. It was a small comfort, but Harry felt as though he hadn't fully lost his best mate.

Both Harry and Ginny, with the help of Lily, Remus and letters from Sirius and surprisingly, Tonks, had managed to gain quite the book of defensive and offensive spells. They'd been writing it down in a small green notebook. All of the spells they'd felt could be useful in a task designed to test your daring were stored in the book. Ginny had argued with Harry over the uses of a spell called the Gemini Charm. One could duplicate any object or life form and they'd continue to multiply until the charm wore off, or the power of the castor wavered. Harry figured this was useless to learn, for the simple reason of 'Well, Ginny, if it's to test your daring, setting up a diversion and running away isn't exactly brave, is it?' Ginny had fought to die on that hill. She had mastered the charm while Harry had completely ignored it.

The full moon came and went without much to note. Sirius was still absent, and Harry and Remus had just talked in their wolf forms. Harry missed his long talks with his mother in his mindscape, but he recognized the fact that if he didn't want to suffer through another weeklong coma, he'd have to draw back into his wolf form. All this seemed to do was further enhance his senses, but Harry wasn't complaining.

The day of the first task finally came, and the Gryffindor table, as well as the rest of the hall, even some of the Slytherins, clapped at the two Hogwarts Champions. People clapped them on the back and gave their shouts of encouragement. Cedric Diggory even patted Harry on the shoulder and told him to 'Give 'em hell, Potter.' This was the first any of the older years had shown any affection or support to Harry or Ginny, and he felt it was fitting that it came from the house of kind and loyal spirits.

Eating was simply not going to happen that day for Harry. Ginny, being a Weasley, had no such reservations. She devoured a plate of eggs and kept throwing pieces of toast or sausages over at Harry's plate. 'Eat something!' she said, finally. Colin had yet to wake up, and Hermione and Ron were not there to encourage him to eat, like they had so many times before a Quidditch match. It only further added to his sense of mounting depression and anxiety. The fact that he wasn't missing Hermione nearly as much as he was Ron only made him feel even more ashamed. He should be missing them both equally, but for the most part, he never thought of Hermione. It was only Ron.

The twins came rushing into the Great Hall. The words 'Ginny' painted on their left cheeks, while 'Harry' was painted on the right. Harry smiled weakly before George shoved a piece of toast into his mouth and clamped his jaw shut.

'Just remember Oliver's old words of wisdom!' said Fred.

'Win or die trying!' the three said together, though Harry's was rather quiet, not to mention said through a mouthful of toast.

He chewed and swallowed the toast and felt much worse, so he rose from the table, followed by Ginny and made their way out of the Hall to more thunderous applause. The Great Hall, as well as the rest of the castle, both on the inside and the outside, had been decorated by the Ministry for the Tournament. There was floor to ceiling banners of the Champions, which would change every minute or so. Each was heavily stylized, their Banner-selves didn't move, but some aspects did. Their eyes, their hair billowing in the wind. Their facial expressions would shift from determined to smiling every so often. Harry's was strange because ever since Rita Skeeter's report on the Tournament in The Prophet, everyone had begun talking about Harry's scars on the side of his face. No matter how uninteresting the story was, people thought it an interesting feature. So, his banner-self had deep, noticeable scars etched into the right side of his face. If Harry was honest with himself, he'd say he looked good in these banners. The fact that people worldwide were buying shirts with this design on them, and smaller posters, was… strange to say the least.

The tent was huge. Nearly as tall as the stadium for the World Cup. Though not quite as long. Just as Harry and Ginny were about to enter the Champions' Entrance, they heard Colin calling their names.

'Harry! Harry! Ginny! Wait!' he came running down towards them and stopped abruptly, panting hard. 'I just- just wanted to say good luck, alright? I know that whatever it is, you'll do good. I know you both will.' Ginny nodded mutely and Harry grimaced. Colin seemed to understand. 'I know they'll come 'round Harry. I know they will.' Harry reached up and patted Colin on the shoulder awkwardly before turning around and entering the Champions Entrance. He didn't trust himself to speak.

They walked over to where Krum and Fleur stood. They all awkwardly hung around each other until the tent flap opened again and Mr. Crouch, who seemed as though this was the last place he'd wanted to be, Bagman, Dumbledore, who was hiding his right arm under his cloak, Madame Maxime, and Karkaroff entered the Champions tent.

Bagman was grinning from ear to ear as he bounced on the balls of his feet. 'Well, now that we're all here – time to fill you in! When the audience, both international, general, and student, has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag' – he held up a small sack of purple silk, and shook it at them – 'from which you will each select a model of the very thing you are about to face! There are different – er – varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too… ah, yes… your task is to collect the golden egg!'

Harry glanced around. 'A model of the very thing you are about to face…' Harry had a very bad feeling settling into the pit of his stomach. This was not helped by the fact that both Fleur and Krum seemed unphased by this news. He turned to Ginny and found her frowning, biting her bottom lip, deep in thought.

They heard the sound of hundreds, no, thousands of footsteps. People laughing, chatting about what the task might entail, joking with their friends and making inconsequential bets. Harry longed to be outside of these canvas walls. He wanted nothing more than to be able to watch in awe and wonder as the Champions faced whatever the hell they were about to face. But that was not his fate. Everything had to be tied to Voldemort. He was sure this Tournament was rigged with his and Ginny's involvement to simply kill them off easily. Harry had done some research on the previous Tournaments in the library with Ginny and Colin. People died in this Tournament all the time. Usually within the first two tasks.

Bagman took the sound of the approaching audience as his cue. He opened the neck of the bag and offered it to Fleur. 'Ladies first,' he said with a roguish grin. Both Ginny and Fleur scowled at him as Fleur dipped her hand into the bag and withdrew…

A dragon.

'You've got to be fucking joking.'

'I'll think. Don't worry, Harry, I'll come up with something.'

'No. I have to do this on my own, you know that.'

'That is the most ridiculous thing you've ever thought. I will not allow my son to die because he is too competitive to take advice.'

'No, mum, I've got a plan. Honest. I think it'll work. And if that doesn't play out, well… wait, hang on, werewolves can speak to dragons, right? Remember at Gringotts before the summer began?'

Lily seemed to read Harry's thoughts at what he was about to try and accomplish. 'I'll let you try your plan, but if it doesn't work, I'll speak to her.'

'Her?'

'You are collecting an egg; I guarantee they are using nesting mothers. They're larger, fiercer, but less agile than the males. Remember, a dragon's weak spot is the eyes. Try and aim directly for the pupil.'

Harry was drawn out of his thoughts as Bagman snapped his fingers in front of his face. Harry shook himself and noticed that all the other Champions had gotten their dragon. Ginny had a bluish-grey dragon with a number one around its neck. Harry dipped his hand into the silk bag and flinched when he touched something sharp and seemingly covered in spikes. He drew it out and saw with irritation that he'd be going last. He had already thought of a plan, he didn't need more time. More time only meant more time left to overthink.

'The Hungarian Horntail,' Bagman said in a showman's awe tone of voice. Dumbledore was frowning deeply, still hiding his right arm, and Harry pulled the elder wand out from behind his ear, twirling it between his fingers, trying not to think.

Ginny Weasley's mind was a whirlwind of complicated half-formed plans. She watched in horror as Harry drew out a Hungarian Horntail, which from what Charlie had told her, was not a good omen for Harry.

She knew quite a bit about dragons, given the fact that she'd grown up with only boys for company, and one of those boys was an accomplished handler of the beasts, but she was in no way an expert.

Harry's eyes were glazed over, and she felt a touch of resentment at the fact that he could speak to his mother mentally to solve any dilemma. What shocked her was when his eyes cleared, and he slapped the side of his head and said, quite loudly to the now empty of all but the Champions, tent, 'Shut up!'

Fleur and Krum turned their alarmed stares at Harry but resumed their pacing. Ginny got up and walked to Harry. 'What is it?' she asked, quietly.

'I don't want her to help me,' he said.

Ginny frowned, berating herself for her earlier feelings. 'Why?'

Harry stared at Ginny as though she had grown a second head. 'Why? Why? Because it's unfair, that's why. You haven't got your dead mum in your head!' he hissed in parseltongue.

Ginny furrowed her brow, not noticing the fact that he had changed languages. 'Well, this is about life or death, is it not?'

'I know it sounds stupid, Ginny, but I… I want to win this on my own merits.'

'You want to win?' Ginny asked. They had joked, of course, about their competitiveness and how it would impact the results of the Tournament. But she never felt Harry was serious. 'You think you can win?'

Harry smirked. 'Knowing you, you've got a plan forming somewhere in there.' He tapped the side of her head affectionately, smiling down at her. Her head only came up to the very bottom of his chin. 'And I think I've got a few particularly spectacular ideas…'

Ginny thought for a moment, biting her lip in concentration before a reluctant smile crossed her face. 'Alright. May the best-underaged Champion win,'

Harry smiled and they grasped each other's hands as though they were about to arm wrestle before Harry enveloped her in his arms. 'Don't die, alright?'

'Very reassuring, Mr. Potter.'

The sound of a canon echoed through the tent and Harry and Ginny came apart. They ignored the terrified looks Fleur and Krum were throwing each other due to the display of parseltongue, and Harry shouted his good lucks as Ginny strode out into the stadium.

Over the past month, Harry had grown incredibly close to Ginny. In a way that wasn't exactly like Ron or Hermione. He couldn't pinpoint it. Part of him was tempted to ask Sirius, but he felt he'd get ridiculed in some manner. And that wasn't what Harry needed exactly. Ginny was just. Great. She could never replace Ron, no, she was different. She mattered more, in a sense, but less in others. He truly did not understand it.

Ginny climbed down a path into a deep pit. There was a magical bubble to protect the audience. The stands rose so high into the sky that Ginny assumed they must have been expanded by magic. Every seat was full to the brim. There were plenty of POTTER signs held up by both the students and the general audience. She spotted with a rush of pride the enormous canvas painting held up by a dozen students, her parents, Professor McGonagall, and brothers save Percy, Bill, and Charlie, that had the banner of herself, red hair billowing behind her with her name plastered in golden cursive lettering beside her over-dramatized portrait. She noticed with a start that there were many of these portraits. It was merchandise for the Tournament, and she'd seen them all around the school seeing as they were plastered on the inside and the outside of the castle, so when walking through the halls and grounds she'd constantly see her face. Not to mention the fact that the pictures on the banners were spread around The Prophet for ticket sale advertisements. She had to admit that she looked good. It was a painting from the side, her freckles and nose glistening and her eyes seemed to glow. She seemed older, too. It was beautiful artwork.

'And your first contestant, facing a Swedish Short-Snout, Ginny Weasley!' Ludo Bagman's voice rung out from the top box of the stadium and Ginny felt herself blushing. 'Now, the enchantments are about to come into play, she won't be able to hear you in ten seconds, so wish her luck!' A roar of encouragement rushed through the wards before they solidified, and she was greeted with nothing but a cold silence. She could hear breathing, and it unnerved her. She couldn't see the dragon.

She stood at the apex of a rather large mound of packed earth. She should be able to see the dragon from here. A ways away from her, probably fifty feet by her estimate, was the Golden Egg.

'It can't be this easy,' she thought to herself. She tried to recall everything she could think of when it came to dragons. What did she know about Swedish Short-Snouts? Then, it hit her.

A wall of fire erupted out of thin air and Ginny rolled out of the way, just in time. They can turn invisible. Not completely, but it was close. Their scales would invert and reflect the world around them like a disillusionment charm. If the dragon moved too fast, the scales would revert to their original position. This was what happened, as the dragon now appeared, clinging to the roof of the wards, three legs holding on as though strapped to the invisible shield, and one reaching out towards her. Most northern dragons had long, powerful forelimbs. Used for climbing mountains without the necessity of fight. Ridgebacks were the same. The difference between a Short-Snout and a Ridgeback came down to their niches. The Ridgeback was the apex predator, hunting anything that moved and reaching great size. Short-Snouts, who lived in the same general area, were burrowers. Their snouts, which gave them their name, could break through the strongest of stone. Only Goblin Silver could withstand such attacks. Its fire was superheated, so as to melt stone, coal, and any other mineral that the beast may encounter when digging through Northern Europe.

She ran for her life to find a different spot to hide and regroup her thoughts. She knew absolutely no spells to fight the dragon, as she was sure Harry would do. No, she had to be smart. She had to be cunning. She tried summoning the egg, just in case and was not surprised when the charm bounced right off the egg due to magical protection. She couldn't hear the crowd, but she was sure they were laughing at her.

She tried to catch a glimpse at the skull of the animal. If its skull was shaped in a way for the eyes to be pointed forward, it would likely have overlapped vision, granting it depth perception. If it didn't then she'd have a known advantage.

Ginny leaned out from behind the rock and stared intently at the dragon that hung upside down over her eggs. Her head was pointed directly at Ginny, and she smiled. The dragon's eyes were not forward-facing. The Short-Snout lacked depth perception.

There were three ideas she had running through her mind and decided to use each one. It couldn't hurt. She cast the Gemini charm on herself, knowing that the second she took a step, a mimic would appear and mirror her every movement. She had only ever managed to produce one copy of herself, hopefully, it would hold long enough to distract the dragon. As a burrower, Short-Snouts would likely have excellent senses of hearing and smell. If they spent most of their time underground, there was no need for them to have fantastic eyesight. It was just basic evolution.

She took a step forward and watched as her mimic bounced out of her. She ran forward while the mimic ran in the other direction. Praying on the idea that the dragon wouldn't smell the difference was a fool's game. So, she released a spell every first-year new before they arrived at Hogwarts. A charm that let out a truly putrid smell filled the air. The wards, keeping air circulation to a minimum, worked to her advantage as the dragon was faced with the inability to smell Ginny or the mimic.

She held her hand up to the dragon, standing to its left. The mimic did the same, though mirrored, standing on the dragon's right. The dragon looked at both Ginnys and seemed to choose the intelligent choice. She slowly climbed down from where she hung, clinging to the wards, and dropped to the ground, careful not to harm her own eggs. She walked in between the Ginnys. Making odd clicking sounds.

'Fuck,' she thought, as the dragon turned its head to the real Ginny. It was using echolocation. She should have thought of that. Naturally, it wouldn't have responded the same to the fake Ginny. Its throat began to tremble as fire formed in her mouth. Ginny had no idea what to do so she cast a caterwauling charm. It was enough, for now. The dragon was taken by surprise and backed away from Ginny. Its sense of hearing was incredibly sensitive. Ginny ran as fast as she possibly could towards the egg. She was almost there when the dragon leapt into the air, unfurled its wings, and landed right in front of Ginny. Surprisingly, the dragon did not immediately kill her. She just stood there, staring into Ginny's eyes.

'I am not taking your eggs!' she put emphasis on the final two words. She was stalling, she knew, but her heart was pounding in her ears, her palms were sweaty, and she just wanted to figure something out. She thought of care of magical creatures. Thinking to other burrowers. It was a stretch, especially considering the fact that dragons and a mammal, like a Niffler were not exactly related, but it was her best bet. She cast the charm, a small bell appearing at the front of her wand. She shook her wand and the bell rattled. The Dragon turned its head so at least one of its terrible eyes could focus in on Ginny properly. Ginny slowly backed away from the dragon, walking backwards in a large circle, continuously rattling the small bell to capture its attention. The dragon moved with her, keeping its eye on her and the bell. Ginny was now behind the nest by a couple feet. The golden egg lay in reach. Trying to remember the charm, she said the words and threw her wand overhead in an arc, throwing the bell away, behind the Dragon. It did not follow the bell, it was too focused on its motherly instincts to protect the eggs, but its head turned and followed the bell's progress, which is all she needed. Ginny reached forward and snatched the egg. Instantly, golden wiring wrapped around the dragon, binding its legs and wings to its body and a dozen dragon handlers came out to collect the dragon.

'That was bloody amazing Weasley!' one of the handlers called to her. 'If you ever see your brother, Charlie, again, you best tell him that you're almost better than 'im!' he clapped Ginny on the shoulder. 'We watched you. You analyzed that situation perfectly. I saw you test if it had binocular vision or not. Brilliant!' Ginny would have smiled and laughed and been proud of the praise, but the adrenaline was running low, and she would have collapsed onto the floor had warm, comforting arms not caught her. She turned her head and grinned at her father's concerned expression.

'Just played a dragon like some cat,' she murmured before collapsing properly out of exhaustion. She remained conscious, insisting on watching Harry perform.

Harry heard absolutely nothing from the other Champions. Supposedly due to warding around the competition. He knew Ginny must have gotten through to some degree because Fleur was sent out after her. But was she alive? He had no idea and it terrified him. He wanted to watch. Maybe he could ask Remus for the memory later.

Fleur's hadn't taken as long as Ginny's. Neither had Krum's. And so, when the cannon shot for Harry to enter the stadium, his heart went into overdrive. The stadium was massive, yes, and the cheering was disorienting to his senses. He asked his mum to block them out, but he didn't need to, as the wards canceled the sound outside of the protective barrier between audience and Champion.

Harry saw the Horntail, curled around her nest. She was eyeing him carefully, perhaps she had already sensed his condition.

Harry was far from an expert on magical creatures. In fact, he knew practically nothing, having been raised by muggles, but he knew that this dragon was going to be a thorn in his side.

Quite literally.

It was jet black, ironically similar to Harry's hair. Its back was lined with spikes, no, not spikes, quills. Harry had a sudden image of a porcupine like attack the dragon could perform. Praying that protego could shield him from such an attack, Harry walked down towards the dragon. Instantly it flinched, writhing away from the nest and screeching. Harry himself was taken aback and raised both his arms to try and calm it down. He really had no idea what he was trying to do, but he needed it to shut up!

The dragon seemed placated by Harry's gesture for only a moment, because a split second after it had calmed, it was sent into a towering rage. Harry heard the dragon scream its thoughts into his mind. 'You will not harm my eggs. You will not destroy my family, werewolf!'

Harry's eyes widened as the dragon pawed the ground, let out an earth-shattering roar, and charged. Its throat trembling with the production of flame. Harry had had a better plan than this, but it was the only thing that came to mind. He raised the Elder Wand, tried to aim directly at the dragon's eyes, and cried,

'IMPERIO!'

There was a pull on his mind as a feeling of warmth and total control raced through his fingers and up his arm. Touching each muscle fibre and tendon as dominion reached his brain. He gripped the Elder Wand tightly. It was as though this was what the wand had been wanting to do all along. A show of power. Of impossibility. The dragon was fighting Harry's curse, but Harry did not have to try very hard to get it to do his bidding. Its blank gaze revealing nothing as the dragon slowly sidestepped away from Harry and the eggs. He walked towards the golden egg and picked it up. Golden magical wiring flung out and encased the dragon, a gate opened for Harry to leave. He released control over the dragon and walked out towards the gate.

The dragon handlers just stared at him with wide eyes as he walked past. A blush began to creep its way across his face as everyone stared at him. He felt someone grip his shoulder as he was pulled into the medical tent. He realized that it was Madam Pomfrey's hand guiding him to a bed. He sat down and she muttered about dementors and dragons. Harry was still in shock.

He'd never performed an unforgivable, and though the curses were legal against animals, he still felt… dirty. The curse itself was intoxicating. It felt fantastic to use, and that's what terrified him.

The world came back into focus by the smell of flowers and Harry shook his head to try and clear the thoughts that had clouded his mind. He looked up and was not entirely surprised to see Ginny's concerned eyes. In the lantern light of the medical tent, which was built into the stadium, her eyes gave off a strange appearance. Like fire in dark water. Though her pupils were large in the dim light, the sheer amount of colour displayed in the thinning iris was fascinating. Tiny golden flecks were quite literally moving within them. Harry was sure it was magic. Around her eyes were a spattering of freckles that lined her nose and cheekbones. Harry drank in the sight before her words finally reached his ears.

'Harry, Harry, HARRY!'

He shook himself again and croaked, 'What?'

'Are you alright? That's… that's not an easy curse to perform…' she bit her lip and looked up at something that stood behind Harry which he couldn't see. 'Harry people are already talking… Dumbledore seems to be the only one who doesn't mind. Sirius is here, alright? He's' –

Whatever she was going to say was cut off when another hand was laid on Harry's shoulder and Sirius came into view. 'Harry? Are you alright?'

More people were crowding around his bed now. Harry hated how distorted his thoughts were. His mother was trying to reach him mentally, but just like those outside of his head, she was not getting very far. Perhaps he had done something wrong? Perhaps the dragon was too powerful for his mind to handle.

He felt as though he was falling backwards. He couldn't think, not properly. 'Is Ginny alright?' he said shakily.

Ginny came into view now; her hair curtained her face. 'Yeah, Harry, I'm here,' Harry saw her, he did, but he couldn't understand that she was safe, not really. Sirius and Remus were there now, but he kept staring at Ginny. Her eyes were the only thing holding his attention. They were real.

He tried lifting his arm to push himself up, but he couldn't. Nothing was wrong with him! Why couldn't he just think? The world began to spin. 'I think I'm dying,' he said, chuckling lightly.

Sirius's eyes went wide when he said that. 'No, kiddo, you're alright. You're fine, Harry. Really. You're fine!'

It was like someone had flipped a switch. His mind cleared, his body came back into feeling, and his eyes focused on all of his surroundings. Very quickly, Harry sat up. He looked around, staring at Remus, Sirius, Ginny, then looking up into Dumbledore's concerned gaze. Harry was checking for any discrepancies. Making sure everyone was alright. Then, Harry's attention was drawn to something quite out of the ordinary. Dumbledore's right hand was… well, truthfully, it was rather disgusting. It was blackened beyond belief. It extended up half of his forearm. Harry supposed this was why the headmaster was hiding his hand all month. Dumbledore seemed to have noticed Harry's attention because he quickly covered his hand with the edges of his cloak.

Harry shook his head and turned back to Sirius. 'Do you think I won?' he asked with a hesitant smile.

Sirius's concerned frown turned into a mischievous smile, though his eyes still held their worried gaze. 'If we're judging by time… then yeah, you won, kid.'

Sirius was roughly pushed to the side by Ginny who glared at Sirius before turning to Harry. She folded her arms across her chest. 'But if we're going off skill, I'd say I won.'

Harry grinned and shook his head. 'I want to know what you did! I couldn't hear anything from inside the tent. I only knew that you finished the task in some way shape or form. You could've been dead or something.'

Ginny rolled her eyes and sat next to Harry on the side of the bed. 'You have no faith in my abilities,'

Just then, the voice of Ludo Bagman rang out through the walls. 'Erm, right… after that impressive display of magical strength from Mr. Harry Potter,' - earth-shattering cheers resonated from outside the medical tent, - 'we are now ready to show the scores for each of our four Champions!' more cheering as Krum and Fleur both made their way out of the medical tent and back into the stadium. Harry shared a quick glance with Sirius, who nodded his approval and gestured to the tent exit.

Together, Harry and Ginny rose and walked back into the arena. It had been completely transformed in the five minutes since Harry had collected his egg. It was now a mound of pristine marble, with beautifully carved steps leading to a summit upon which four circles were etched into the floor. Krum, Fleur, Ginny, and Harry stood within the confines of a circle each and stared up at the protruding top box high above the rest of the stadium.

'Now,' – Ludo Bagman began, - 'Due to visibility, I shall be announcing the scores to you all,' he paused, and the sound of ruffling pages could be heard, 'For Miss Ginny Weasley, she receives high scores! With a ten from myself, Mr. Crouch, and Professor Albus Dumbledore. A nine from Madame Maxime, and a seven from Professor Karkaroff.' The noise was deafening. Hogwarts students and spectators alike were cheering and clapping. The magical banners in the four quadrants of the stadium shifted to show Ginny's poster, along with her scores. Harry could've sworn he could hear the twins over the cheering.

'For Fleur Delacour. She receives an eight from myself, Mr. Crouch, and Professor Dumbledore. A ten from Madame Maxime, and a four from Professor Karkaroff.' More cheering, just as loud though from a different portion of the stadium. Harry assumed these were the French spectators. The banners changed to the beautiful illustration of Fleur, hair billowing in the artificial wind with her scores inscribed at the top right, just above her name.

'For Mr. Viktor Krum' – Harry's ears were beginning to hurt with the constant cheering. His wolfish senses were too sensitive for this. His mother was trying to temper his hearing without blocking it completely, but she wasn't practiced at it. – 'He receives a ten from Professor Karkaroff, a seven from myself, Mr. Crouch, and Professor Dumbledore, and a four from Madam Maxime.'

He paused dramatically. Harry could hear his heartbeat. With the announcement of the scores, the small stone circles the Champions were standing in rose to match their total. Ginny had the highest podium, with forty-six points. Though her height made her stand lower than both Krum and Fleur.

'For Mr. Harry Potter, he receives a ten from myself and Professor Dumbledore, an eight from Professor Karkaroff, a seven from Madame Maxime, and a three from Mr. Crouch!' loud boos, which Harry knew to be directed at Mr. Crouch, echoed through the stands. People were firing off red sparks towards the top box, and Harry was momentarily confused by Mr. Crouch's reaction.

'Barty Crouch was very much against the dark arts back in the first war. You just used the one curse he hates the most on a dragon. You did something no one's ever done before, and he's scared. At least, that's what I think.

'I mean, I performed the task perfectly. I got the egg in record time and didn't wreck any of the real eggs. I should've gotten tens.

'You're tied for second, just let it slide, Harry.' Lily replied with a mental chuckle.

'You're tied with Fleur!' Ginny cried, she was smiling, and Harry couldn't help but notice the contemptuous look.

'Yes, and you're in the lead,' Harry replied. Ginny's smile broadened and she titled her chin up to look down at Harry, even though the risen podium only made her match Harry's height.

The clapping died down and the Champions were told to meet in the press tent for a post-task conference. Harry and Ginny both groaned at the implication.

Ginny had her face resting on the wooden press table, which was risen above a large room full to the brim with journalists, drool dripping from her mouth as she quite literally slept through the entire conference. Questions would be directed to her, and Harry would just tell them that she hadn't slept well the night before. It would've been funny had loads of reporters not gotten the impression that Harry and Ginny were extremely close. Not that they were wrong, but it led to the unfortunate assumption that Harry could answer all of their questions for Ginny. Needless to say, there were a lot of 'I don't know's' and 'Well, she's asleep so I reckon that's a no,'

Finally, it ended, and Harry was comforted somewhat by the fact that the interview was spread equally to all four Champions.

Harry was not gentle with waking up Ginny. He shoved her shoulder repeatedly until she finally woke up, in which Harry had then produced the aguamenti charm they had learned over the previous month for due measure. 'Morning,' Harry quipped, stepping down from the raised dais and walking confidently through the now empty press room.

' 'Arry Potter. Could I 'ave a word wit you?' Harry didn't have to turn around to know who was behind him. His whole body was tingling with warning, the werewolf within him panicking to evade the veela girl. Not to mention the unmistakable accent. Turning on the spot, he faced Fleur Delacour.

'Sure, Fleur, what is it?' he replied rather testily.

She didn't say anything but grabbed hold of Harry's arm and pulled him behind a curtain. Harry hissed in pain. It felt as though the surface of his skin was boiling but was drenched in freezing cold water. 'Get off me!' he spat, wrenching his arm from her grip. He was not pleased to see a satisfied smirk play across her face.

'So, I was right, den,' she said in a whisper, raising her chin ever so slightly. She was tall. Her legs were probably rather appealing to most wizards. But Harry was taller. At this moment, however, he didn't feel like it. In fact, the combination of her rather ominous remark, and the veela magic, which was constantly attacking his every nerve, was making him feel incredibly small.

'What exactly do you mean?' said Harry in return.

She tried to talk a few times but couldn't seem to get it out. She was growing frustrated, and Harry would have enjoyed the sight of this – to him – stuck-up French veela princess unable to formulate a sentence in English, had he not been extremely magically uncomfortable. Then, finally, she let out a groan of frustration and took a step back from Harry.

'You are a strange man Monsieur Potter. I intend to discover exactly how strange you are,' she paused and eyed him from head to toe, 'Your secret is safe with me for the time being,'

Harry watched Fleur turn on her heel, silver hair swinging behind her, and exit the tent with an apprehensive feeling settling into the base of his stomach.

'Well, shit,'

'There's nothing we can do about it,' Lily replied, sadly. 'We can do nothing but guess at her motivations, and for now, you're safe,'

Harry began to move out of the small hiding spot Fleur had brought him behind, 'Right, but how long until she decides it's time the world knows my secret. Mum this isn't someone I have consistent access to for regular discussion,'

Harry spotted Ginny milling about near the tent exit and made his way to her. 'Hey, what's wrong?' said Ginny, taking in his agitated appearance.

He glanced down at her quickly and muttered, 'Not now,'

'Harry, use your brain! You're' –

'You are my brain, mum,'

Lily let out a reluctant chuckle, 'You're acting as though she's a solar eclipse that can only be seen once every ten years or something. You're in the bloody Tournament with her!'

'Right, except you seem intent on forgetting that whenever I'm around her, it's pretty hard to think. And not for the same reasons as other blokes,'

Harry and Ginny had climbed their way up the stone steps and had stopped in the stone semi-circle that overlooked Hagrid's hut. 'Well, I'd say this is important enough to suffer through some discomfort,'

Harry was silent for a long while, the wind blowing through his hair as Ginny leaned against one of the large rock slabs, staring up into the heavens. He didn't know why he was so reluctant. Maybe it was that constant itch at the back of his mind that he was unwanted, no matter how hard his mother attempted to stamp that sentiment. Or perhaps it was his general underlying awkwardness around talking to girls. Hermione was different because he had never really had a chance to acknowledge the fact that she was a girl. Plus, she wasn't exactly what he'd consider "girly". Then there's Ginny… well Harry couldn't exactly explain it away, but she was just Ginny. There was nothing to it, really.

But Fleur Delacour seemed to be exactly how he'd pictured girls to be. Over interested in her appearance, relatively self-centered, and… frilly was the only word Harry could use to describe what he was feeling. Maybe it was a little sexist of him to subjugate so many under a simple, generalized umbrella, but right now he was classing Fleur along the lines of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. Two people he had no real problem with, and had no reason to dislike, but did all the same.

'Well, he thought, 'I suppose I don't dislike them, they're just not my type of person to hang around,'

'This is the most pathetic internal conversation I've ever had the displeasure of witnessing. Will you just stop and talk to Fleur?'

'Fine, mum, I'll talk to her. Seems like a right waste of time if you ask me…'

'You're only saying that because you're a boy and she makes you uncomfortable. You yourself have told me, and others, countless times that this secret is serious. Take responsibility for it. Make sure she doesn't go mouthing off to just anyone,'

Harry sighed and kicked at an unfortunate stone laying in the dirt. 'Fine, you're right. You always are,' Harry looked up and found Ginny staring off into space. He was a little surprised that she'd stuck around. He cleared his throat slightly and she turned to him.

'Everything alright?' she asked again.

'Yes… no… I don't know. It's all this big mess,' he began to walk towards the rickety old bridge that crossed from one of the mountains to the one Hogwarts was built on. The clock tower's irregular glass design was reflecting light in strange places across the courtyard that lay ahead of the tunneled bridge. 'I have to get to know Fleur Delacour,'

Ginny frowned and turned to face him. 'Why? Don't you feel as if you're burning up from the inside whenever she's around you?'

Harry smiled ruefully, 'Yeah, but this is apparently more important than my own comfort,'

'It IS more important, Harry,'

'Fine, fuck, it is more important than my own comfort,'

Ginny stopped and raised an eyebrow in Harry's direction. He sighed and ran a hand through his long hair. 'She knows I'm a werewolf. At least, that's what I think she knows about. She wasn't particularly clear. She said the secret is safe with her or whatever but I need to talk to her and make sure she won't... you know,'

Ginny sighed and acknowledged the severity of the situation. 'Right, well, that's a pain then, isn't it?'

Harry groaned and leaned his elbows on the railing of the bridge. 'Will you help me… Please,' he turned to face her and pouted his bottom lip, widening his eyes to enhance the effect.

Ginny punched him in the arm lightly and sighed. 'I thought you had experience with blondes. You should be right at home,'

Harry laughed and Ginny was silently proud of herself for being able to bring him out of his funk. 'Oh yeah, loads of experience. I was such a fantastic date that she felt forced to invent an excuse as to why she couldn't date me. Yes, Ginny, I'm an expert.'

Ginny cocked her head to the side, leaning away from the side of the bridge to encourage Harry to continue walking back to the castle. 'You think Elizabeth made it up?' she asked, beginning to walk towards the courtyard.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. 'I don't know. Part of me feels like she did. Then again, we're two years apart. That's a little weird… even for me.'

Ginny snorted, 'What do you mean, 'even for you'? You said it yourself, you've got no experience,'

Harry leaned against the large doorframe to the clock tower. He placed a hand over his forehead and sigh dramatically. 'Oh, but Ginny, don't you understand? Fleur is just… different!' he sank to his knees before Ginny and clasped his hands together. 'Please, Ginny dear, do aid me on my quest. I must convince the veela of my purity of heart, and force her to keep my secrets,'

Ginny grabbed Harry's conjoined hands and pulled him to his feet, laughing as he staggered a little. 'I was going to help you anyways, you dolt. Just promise me one thing,'

Harry leaned in closer to hear Ginny's request. 'Find a way to embarrass Ron.'

Harry scowled and cocked his head to the side. 'What does that have to do with it? And why would I do that?'

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Because he's being a git, in case you haven't noticed.'

'Yeah, but I don't want to make things worse by insulting him. And again, how does this have anything to do with Fleur?'

'Oh, Harry,' Ginny said, laying a hand on his shoulder in mock sympathy, 'You have so very much to learn in the art of pranking. You've seen Ron around Fleur… just imagine the possibilities of being her friend.' Ginny sighed and Harry could say that he was a little afraid at the look of pure glee etched into Ginny's face.

'Fleur's friend, eh?'

Ginny scrunched her nose up, as though there was something putrid in the air. 'Well… let's just hope we've gotten the wrong impression of her,'

'Not bloody likely,' Harry muttered, as they entered the Gryffindor common room to the most extravagant afterparty they'd ever witnessed.

Over the coming weeks, Harry was not altogether surprised at the level of attention he and Ginny were garnering. From the stares and gossip to the small models of himself and Ginny that people had purchased. Remus had shown Harry, with the help of Dumbledore's pensive, seeing as the one at Potter Manor was unavailable, Ginny's performance in the task. He had grudgingly admitted that she had definitely outperformed him. He still felt a little proud at his imperius curse, however.

The Daily Prophet articles that had been released post-task were not altogether kind. They praised Ginny's resourcefulness, but the front page of The Prophet had been covered with allegations of Harry Potter becoming the next dark lord. Truthfully, Harry didn't mind. He felt as though the accusations were merited seeing as he produced an unheard-of act of – while not necessarily dark, seeing as it was used on an animal, - frowned upon magic. Though this time around, unlike that of the Heir of Slytherin, people were more fascinated by him than terrified.

Merlin, people were stupid.

Ron had made absolutely no attempt to speak to his sister or Harry. He hadn't even been at the afterparty. Supposedly, he was in the library. While happy that Ron was still upholding his academic standard, even without his presence, Harry was still a little upset at the lack of contact between the two. He really missed his best mate, but Harry didn't know how to approach the situation.

Yes, Ron was acting on jealousy and deeply rooted insecurities, but he was also reacting appropriately to Harry's actions. Harry had ignored Ron all summer, then had expected things to return to normal without consequence. Ron had taken this in his stride and had worked to stay close to Harry and be supportive. What did Harry do in return? Well, he worked harder in school, changing his and Ron's dynamic slightly. He had activated a competitiveness in Ron that was often ignored. His changes had changed Ron for the better, but Ron had again gone unrewarded for such actions.

Ron had been nothing but loyal, supportive, and accepting of Harry over the course of the last five months, and all Harry had done was treat him with near indifference and neglect. Not to mention keep countless secrets from him, one of which was truly life-changing. With reporters, veela, and the general public focused in on him, it was only a matter of time before people began to discover Harry's secret. He didn't know what he'd do if the world found out before Ron, his best mate, had ever even heard an inkling of it. It was Harry's fault, in the end, and he was just glad that Ron was not openly harsh to Harry.

With Ginny, however, he couldn't understand. She'd done nothing wrong, and if he truly believed that Ginny had entered herself, well, Harry didn't know what to say to that. Perhaps it was Hermione's delusions that were driving him to somehow believe that Ginny – Or Harry, for that matter – had entered themselves into the Tournament. Harry knew, as did Ginny, that Ron's treatment of his sister was founded purely on petty insecurities and jealousy. It was for this reason that Harry was not rushing to apologize to Ron. If he didn't treat his sister with some semblance of respect, then Harry wouldn't bother trying to fix things. Ron would need to get over his insecurities, or at least bury them enough so he could apologize to Ginny.

Needless to say, there was a lot of stubbornness going around.

And Lily was just so over the whole thing.

It was early December, and the grounds were already covered in more snow than Harry had ever seen before. The castle's many turrets and spires, now toped with snow, gave off the romanticized feeling of living in a fairy tale. It had been only a couple of weeks since the first task, and yet it had felt like months. Harry's friend group now consisted of two students who were a year younger than him, which proved incredibly inconvenient. During the classes that were not Arithmancy or Ancient Runes, Harry did nearly everything alone. His grades were higher than ever, and his teachers, (yes, even Snape,) were giving out their forms of praise.

But it did nothing to better Harry's mood.

He'd completed the first task due to an unfair advantage with a wand that, according to Dumbledore, is the most powerful wand ever made. To Harry, this wasn't winning. It was cheating. And that fact had gnawed away at his thoughts for the past two weeks.

It was very near the end of class, Ancient Runes, to be exact, and Harry had already packed his things away. Today they had been learning about the use of runes in constructing protective enchantments. Well, quite frankly, that's what they had been learning for the entire term thus far. Harry didn't mind, though. It was all rather interesting and he was good at it.

Really good at it.

Colin was lazily etching runes into his notebook with the point of his wand. Harry read it upside down but could decipher that Colin was making his notebook resistant to water. Not a bad idea, all things considered, but still random.

Colin did that sort of thing a lot. He'd etch runes into haphazard objects and see what would happen. If Harry could describe him, he'd say he was like Hermione, but instead of stopping at studying and learning the theory, he'd experiment with what he'd learnt right after. It only made Harry long for Hermione's company. Though again, it was in passing. As though the thought didn't occur unless he was directly reminded of it. Which only made him feel worse.

Harry was staring off into space, this space being Ginny's hair. It's not that he knew what he was staring at, it was just distracting enough to hold his attention as he waited for the bell. If he'd been more concious of his surroundings, he'd have been rather embarrassed, but Ginny was looking at the ceiling, completely oblivious.

'If I could have your attention for a brief moment,' Harry jumped at the voice of Professor Babbling - which due to the runes in the class, played directly into Harry's ears. 'Now, as I'm sure you are all aware, the Yule Ball is approaching,' she eyed the class and waited for any sign of recognition in her students' eyes.

'Erm, no Professor. We've never 'eard of somfin like tha,'' said a Hufflepuff boy from the back of the class. it sounded as though he was speaking through a mouthful of food. Harry was once again morosely reminded of Ron.

Professor Babbling didn't seem surprised, but did not seem pleased at the prospect of explaining such a thing.

'Right, well, typically, your year wouldn't have any role to play unless you'd been asked by someone in a higher year, but because of Miss Weasley's involvement, well… let's just say that you've all been roped into it…'

Well, after something like that, Professor Babbling had Harry, Ginny, and Colin's rapt attention.

'Now, the Yule Ball is sort of this traditional dance you've all got to do when there's a Triwizard Tournament. It will be hosted on Christmas day. Now, here's a change this time around. Third years are now invited. More importantly, Champions,' – she focused in on where Harry and Ginny stood, - 'your participation is required. In fact, you're the ones who have to open the dance,'

Harry's mind was whirring. This was an unexpected task. Not to mention incredibly stressful. Well, he supposed he should just invite Ginny. They were best friends, he supposed. After all, he couldn't bear the thought of going to the ball with someone like Lavender or Parvati. At least he knew Ginny.

Babbling seemed to have noticed the way Harry and Ginny were giving each other looks. Similar to those of students forming a group silently after the announcement of a partner project, she had to intervene quickly before they got their hopes up. 'Unfortunately, Champions may not attend the ball together. They must each find a partner for the dance outside of the Tournament pool. This is due to instances of sabotage and, in particular, drugging of rival Champions in previous Tournaments,'

Harry and Ginny's shoulders slumped, though for two very different reasons. Harry didn't know what Ginny was feeling, but for him, the task had become a whole lot more difficult. Just then, the bell rang and everyone got to their feet, picking up their bags and slowly making their way out of the classroom.

'Well, this is shit, isn't it?' said Ginny, sliding into step next to Harry as Colin left the pair alone. He seemed insistent to act upon something and was determinedly not telling Harry what was up. He'd been fine before the announcement of the Yule Ball.

'Yeah,' Harry replied, smiling sheepishly at Ginny, 'It would have been a lot easier if we could've gone together,'

Ginny turned away from Harry and looked ahead of her, she frowned a bit but Harry couldn't for the life of him understand why. 'Yeah… easier,'

'Harry why'd you have to say it like that!'

'What? It's not like it isn't true!'

'Well, you've just made it sound like this whole dance is a chore, and you were just going to use her for the Ball. As if you weren't going to enjoy yourself with her,'

'How the hell did you get that from 'Easier'? And it's not like I'm going to enjoy myself! I don't even know how to dance!'

'You could ask Tonks! I'm sure she knows how to dance,'

'Knowing how to dance, and avoiding tripping over your feet are likely separate for Tonks. I mean, honestly, I know we've only spent a bit of time aroud her, but it's a bloody miracle that she made it as far as she has as an auror,'

'Fine. You could ask Sirius. He was a great dancer,'

'Know all about Sirius's dancing, do you mum? Tell me, how'd that happen?'

A memory flashed before his eyes of Lily roughly pushing James to the side, proclaiming 'Why would I ever dance with a Potter, when Sirius is right here?' before taking Sirius by the hand, and leading him onto a stage in front of hundreds of students.

'When the hell did that happen? And what is the context for that?'

'Hogwarts used ot have end of year Balls. I don't know why they stopped them, it happened after my time, but that was when I ignored and pretended to hate your father. Anyways, that was the first time I referred to Sirius as 'Sirius' and not 'Black'. It was really just to piss off James. Funnily enough, I did end up dancing with your dad that night. That was later, though. It was… eye-opening,'

'Alright, I'll ask Sirius. Maybe he can come over the next Hogsmeade weekend or something…'

'That's an idea. Now, who are you going to ask?'

'I haven't got a clue, mum.' Harry paused, lost in thought. Ginny stopped beside him. Once again Harry was surprised that she'd stuck around during his mental conversation. He had a sudden idea, but first, he had to do something. 'Ginny, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like you were some convenient placement, or whatever. I would have enjoyed my night with you if I'd been able to take you. I just meant easier as in… well, not having to deal with finding a date,'

Ginny rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. 'And what makes you think I'd have said yes?'

Harry's eyebrows shot up and he smiled, shaking his head. 'You've got me there. Sure, that's a good point. So I guess I've been a complete git on all fronts then. Even my apology has me fuddling up,'

Ginny reached up and patted Harry on the head. 'There, there,' she crooned, as though talking to a puppy, 'They do say men's brains don't finish developing until they're twenty-five… You're eleven years away from that, Harry. That's a long and dangerous road, I'm afraid,'

Harry laughed and continued walking. He had an idea as to who to invite, but he didn't know if it would be possible. Not to mention the fact that he was a little nervous even thinking about it. 'Hey Ginny… do you think…' he paused, biting the inside of his cheek. 'Do you reckon Elizabeth would like to come? Like, if I invite her… you know, as friends?' Ginny stared at Harry in silence for a moment. 'I mean, I'd have to check with McGonagall to see if it's even possible… but I'm sure with Remus's help, seeing as he's the DADA Professor, well… maybe it'd,' –

'I think that's a great idea!' Ginny said, cutting Harry off. 'No, no really… she'd get to see Hogwarts, and I'd get to see her. Yes! Harry, you've got to ask McGonagall!'

She seemed genuinely ecstatic at the idea, and Harry couldn't help but grin back at her. With that plan in mind, they made their way to the Great Hall for dinner.

A/N: Wanted to point out that the expansion of the Triwizard Tournament to be more of a big deal is more of just a way of making the outside world more prominent. A lot of this fic takes place outside of Britain, and I felt it important for world-building to show that this Wizarding World isn't all that small. Like, I know we all KNOW it isn't but, here I show it.