Harry Potter and The Golden Globe: Chapter 2

Surpriiiiiiise! I'm back sooner than I thought. To be honest I didn't plan to finish it before at least Wednesday because I had a busy week, but then the incredible happened… The state of play for the new Harry Potter game, Hogwarts Legacy. I'm so hyped, that' s a game I imagined playing when I first read a Harry Potter book when I was 10. Idk how you feel about it, but it seems so open and interactive, exactly the sort of game I love.

So, about the chapter now:

First, it's longer, idk if it's enough or not, so tell me if it should be longer or a lil shorter.

Second, it follows the same road as canon to a certain extent. At first, I wanted to totally skip that part. But while writing I had some other ideas, now I think it's a pretty important chapter, for the whole plot in general. I introduce some character and hint some things that will be like really important later in the story. I won't say anything more, I'm sure u will notice some of the hints, and u can pm me about it if u want, I ll gladly answer.

Well, that's it.

!LITTLE UPDATE!

Since ive been told that it was not clear enough, I will say it here. There is a timelapse between chap1 and 2, nothing is missing. It's normal if i dont explain the complete conversation that started in the first chap. For now, only Chaos, Harry and me know what was said.

Enjoy!

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

It should be criminal to wake up that early, Harry thought, just after Mrs. Weasley came to wake them up. He was usually an early riser, living with the Dursley obliged, but now they had to wake up two hours before the time he usually did it at 4 Privet Drive. Furthermore, with everything that happened to him lately, especially in his dreams, he was always more tired than he should be. If someone ever asks, Voldemort is not something one would want to see while sleeping.

At least he was not the worst of the batch, Ron was still lying in his bed, muttering Merlin knows what. The twins at least were already dressing knowing better to provoke the ire of their mother as early as it was. Harry, after looking for his glasses for a good minute, started doing the same. He knew that the matron of the Burrow never did as much as raise her voice when talking to him, but he did not want to test his luck.

It was one of the rare time the Burrow was completely quiet except for the whistling of the teapot downstairs. And who was he to break it. He himself thought of mornings like something sacred that should be enjoyed alone, in peace, without any external interference.

Mrs. Weasley was making breakfast. That simple conclusion was able to make him drool like an idiot, but he could not control himself. First because she was a fantastic cook, and second, he was not used to eat something that good with the Dursley, because he was the one making breakfast there, and while he has some experience, it was not even close to what Mrs. Weasley could do. He even asked himself once if she put some potion in her food, but he discarded that idea when he remembered how awful potions tasted, at least the ones he had to ingurgitate in the infirmary.

Harry stayed silent the whole way to the portkey, listening to the twins' whispering. He still wondered how they did what they did to his cousin, and the fact that they had a lot of those candy left him in wonder. He always thought all they could do was pranking, and break rules, but it seems that doing that required a certain talent in magic, not necessarily in the academics. Huh, thankfully Hermione cannot read my mind, if she knew what I was thinking about, she would fry me alive. I know she can, and if she can't, she will with some time. The dark-haired boy thought, still walking towards what Mr. Weasley called a "portkey". He was not sure what it was, and was too exhausted to make a complete sentence, but from what was said earlier it was that "portkey" that would bring them all to the place where the Quidditch World Cup would be held.

When they finally reached the top of the hill, a shouting voice called them, saying that they found the portkey. It was Amos Diggory, apparently a colleague of Mr. Weasley at the Minister. And he was also Cedric Diggory's father, the same Cedric who beat him at Quidditch. Harry remembered him quite well since he was the only one who won against him, even if he was chased by a soul sucking monster. That match left quite a bitter taste, but he did not hold it to Cedric, Gryffindor team told him that when Cedric saw that Harry was almost left for dead, on the ground of the pitch, he asked for a remake of the game. That simple action was enough to make him like the young man. But how much he liked him did not matter when he greeted them all, he could not give him more than a nod in his exhausted state. At least it was better that the two pranksters, all they did was to raise their nose like aristocrats when in presence of lesser being. It seemed that they did not forgive the Hufflepuff for their loss yet.

Cedric for his part did not look deterred by his or the twins doing. He was still smiling and participating in the adults' conversation. He even tried to calm his father when he recognized Harry and started boasting about how his big boy beat THE Harry Potter.

When the time to finally use the portkey finally came, he actually felt it, it was a weird sensation like being near a cracker just after lighting it. It felt like it could explode any time. It must be because it is a timed portkey, I'm sure Mr. Weasley mentioned it. I imagine it's a feeling everyone have, given the nature of the portkey. Harry thought. He did not see what the portkey was yet, he just felt it, and that's why he almost broke his vow of silence of his sacred morning, to laugh, when the Weasley's patriarch asked them to touch an old boot. They all looked stupid, doing what they did, but it did work, and that is when Harry made a solemn promise to himself. He will actually work something out about those awful wizard ways of transportations. First floo, now that. He really did not look forward to finding out what the apparition Mrs. Weasley spoke about earlier this morning, felt like. He would find an alternative, even it was the last thing he did in his life.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

After messing with the poor Mr. Roberts' mind, they installed their tents, which by the way could not look any more Muggle, until they entered the tent. Harry then remembered why he liked magic so much, it was big enough to host the lot of them without any problem. That is the magic he liked, not the barbaric way of travelling that was used.

After settling in, Mr. Weasley asked the trio to find water, Harry was sure it was his way to let them look around the camp and enjoy themselves. He really liked that part of him, he was really laid back as a father and he could still control the turbulent twins, well at least to a certain point.

As they wandered, Harry realized how much he underestimated the wizarding world, for him the only wizards were from the U.K. However, his horizon were broadened with that walk. He even discovered another wizarding school, Salem, the American Witches' Institute. It was a first for him, he never thought about where foreigners' wizards could learn magic. Does that mean I could have gone to one of those schools? Harry mused, still walking, he did not even see the change of decor around them. It was all green, as Ron remarked. Mmh, I don't think it's that simple, first there is the language barrier, moreover, if I didn't receive Hogwarts letter, I would not know anything about magic, and no other school contacted me, so—

"Harry! Ron! Hermione!" Someone shouted, interrupting his train of thought.

That was Seamus Finnigan, his dormmate. He talked to Ron and Hermione for a while, Harry still not willing to open his mouth was only nodding from time to time, to give the impression he was listening what they were saying. Suddenly a high-pitched yelp drew his attention in what seemed to be the Bulgarian section of the camp. It was a dark haired who looked to be younger than him, most likely twelve. It appeared that her cat escaped her hands and was now running around as she tried to catch the little pet. Totally focused on the scene in front of him, he did not notice when his friends left him behind, thinking he was following them.

"Catch him, please" Pleaded the young witch, to no one in particular.

All of a sudden, something fell on his shoulder. He caught it pretty easily, Quidditch reflexes obliged, and it was really soft and warm. It was not until the raven-haired girl came running to him, that Harry understood that he, in fact, caught her cat. He examined the pet in his hands. A cute white little furball, with black paws. It was not older than six months, he learned how to guess approximately the age of cats thanks to the endless afternoons he passed in the company of Mrs. Figg and her whole mob of cats. It was definitely one of the cuter he has ever seen in his life, not difficult feat since the entirety of Mrs. Figg's cats were really old, and Crookshanks, well no need to talk about him.

The girl finally arrived before him, and she was a head shorter than him. Her skin was pale it brought out those big blue shining eyes. She looked like she has too much energy to contain in her little body, and the remainder energy went into her eyes making them shines like a gemstone. The blue in her eyes was deep, he remembered hearing of that shade in elementary school, it was called cobalt blue, and if he could say something about it, she definitely had beautiful eyes.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you" Said the owner of the cat. "I didn't know he would run like that, Daffy will be so mad, she gave it to me for my birthday and here I am nearly losing him not even 2 weeks after. You really saved my life there, and also Yoshi's." She continued in one breath.

The last sentence piqued his curiosity, he did not say anything, but the girl seemed to understand him, maybe because he tilted his head quite obviously in incomprehension. I really should do something about it, how is that the first stranger I encounter can read me like an open book.

She pointed a finger to the cat who was still in his hands. "That is Yoshi by the way, Daffy called him like that. I don't really know where it came from, but I like it, and he doesn't answer to anything else anyway" She seemed to remember something as she gasped, and quickly held her hand to him.

Thinking that she wanted her cat back, he handed him to her. She was surprised by the gesture as if she completely forgot about her pet. "Ah… I wanted to introduce myself since you are my savior after all." She said with an awkward laugh, but still retrieved the white furball and started stroke him gently. "I am Astoria Greengrass, my friends call me Stori, but you absolutely can't, in fact forget about me mentioning it, you may be my savior but that's too embarrassing to have someone else saying it sorry."

She was speaking even faster than Hermione when she was talking about something that interested her (which means everything). However, the young Potter found the little witch amusing. She was looking at him expectingly, she looked like a pet, with her round and pleading eyes. Her parents must have a hard time refusing her anything. He thought At that moment he understood that he could not avoid breaking his vow of silence, he sighed and answered her.

"My name is Harry, Harry Potter, pleased to meet you."

He was ready to the gawking that would indubitably come after the mention of his name. He waited, looking at here but oddly enough, it did not happen. Instead, she smiled widely looking excited.

"I knew it, I knew I recognized your hair. I go to school with you, last year was my first at Hogwarts." Oh no, please not another Creevey stalker. But she surprised him. "Don't say it to anyone, but I absolutely love the way you fly, I really think you are the best flyer in the whole school."

Years did not make him better at receiving compliments, so he stumbled out a thanks, his cheeks redder than Ron's hair. However, for once the compliments were for something he actually did, not the death of his parents, and he quite liked the new sensation He, for the first time, felt proud to be recognized for something he loved doing, not something he was forced to do, like fighting a giant snake in the basement of a castle.

"Do you think you could teach me? Daffy hates flying and daddy, well he is scared for me, so he won't. do it either" She whispered the last part, but Harry could still hear it. He was curious, but not to the point of asking a stranger to explain her private life.

Harry was really amused by her bluntness, it reminded him of his ginger friend. "Yeah, why not ? Come find me whenever you want when the term start, it should be fun."

At his words Astoria was beaming at him, hopping from a feet to another.

"Really? Oh, thank you so much, I knew Daffy was right, you are definitely nice for a Gryffindor."

Harry froze when hearing what she said, who was that Daffy she kept mentioning, he was sure he did not know someone called like that, so how could she say he was nice or not. Furthermore, the comment on his house was disturbing. The only person to ever talk like that about Gryffindor, did not like the house of bravery, and most of the time they were people from Slytherin house.

"So, you're not in Gryffindor then?" He asked cautiously.

"Me? No, I'm a Slytherin like daddy." He gulped at that, uneasiness rising within him. "The hat pondered a lot between, your house and mine, but in the end, he listened to me. I really wanted to be in the same house as my sister is and where daddy was when he was in school."

I am stupid to be wary of her just because of her house, I myself, almost ended up in the snake pit. Harry berated himself.

"So that Daffy girl you keep talking about, who is she?"

She stared at him for a good five second as if he was a strange animal.

"Daffy, my sister—"

"That would be me, Potter. Why? You interested?" A feminine voice interrupted Astoria from explaining whatever she started explaining. "And to you it's Greengrass, or even Daphne if affinities but not what she said, NEVER what she said." The tone was cold, but not mean.

Harry searched for the origin of the voice and found it when he turned around. He missed a breath, before him was the most beautiful person he ever saw in his life. A slender platinum blonde was looking at him, she was about his height, had high cheekbones, a thin nose, the same blue eyes as her sister. Her hair was tied back in what seemed to be a neglected ponytail. She wore a blue skirt, and a simple white blouse and a red Bulgarian scarf tied to her neck.

She threw him a last glance and walked toward her sister.

"Tori, where were you, we thought you were following us, you scared us." The older Slytherin said in a gentle voice filed with worry, it was quite the change of tone he witnessed, she must really love her little sister.

Astoria was looking desperate, it was obvious she did not want to disappoint her sister saying her that she almost lost her birthday present. Seeing her struggling with an answer he helped her.

"That is on me sorry" He said "I saw her beautiful cat and asked her about it, and when talking about it, she must have forgotten the time. Once again, I am sorry." He ended his excuse winking at Astoria. She looked at him agape not knowing what to say.

Daphne turned to face him and examined him as if he was a new scientific project, very interesting but unable to understand it yet. The staring continued for a long minute during which he grew really nervous, her face was too close for him to stay calm. And when he decided that he would take a step back, she stopped, and her lips turned slightly upwards. And she stunned him on place with a simple phrase.

"I really like your eyes, they are quite a lovely sight."

And with that she took her sister by the arm and just walked past him, leaving him still dumbfounded in the middle of the Irish camp.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Harry was still not back to himself when he returned to his tent, still thinking about his last encounter. Now, after thinking for a bit, he remembered being in the same class as her in potion, he did not know how he never noticed her in the first place. Maybe because I only had Malfoy as a reference when thinking about the Slytherin. He thought to himself.

"Where were you, Harry? How did you disappear, all of a sudden, when we were walking. It's not nice to abandon us like that, you know." As soon as she saw him, Hermione assaulted him. Ron was behind her looking a little sorry for him being the victim of her rant, and maybe a little relieved. Be it because Harry was back or because Hermione shifted her attention to him, he did not know.

After a few minutes he managed to convince her that no he did not leave them, it was the opposite actually. That they were totally engrossed with their conversation that they never took the time to look for him until they came back. He explained that he met someone from school but did not develop further. He did not think it was that important to tell her who exactly he met, and she did not insist, so everything was fine.

They were in middle of their lunch when the rest of the Weasley men finally arrived. They were interrupted by Ludo Bagman. Who according to Mr. Weasley, was the one who was going to comment the game. He was also an ex pro-Quidditch player for the England National team. That explains the squashed nose. Harry remarked to himself.

Mr. Bagman was now trying to take bets on the match form everyone, Mr. Weasley ended making one on the win of Ireland, and the twins did bet too, adding to the wagers one of their inventions, the fake wand. But their bet was a crazy call, they wagered over the fact that Krum would get the snitch, but Ireland would still win the match, a risky bet.

Harry lost the track of their conversation about the time they started talking about the disappearance of some woman working for the Ministry, a certain Bertha Jorkins. At the same moment they were joined by Mr. Crouch, a stiff man who liked like a vision of a future Percy, minus the hair color. That fact was even more true, when looking at Percy who was not far from drooling in admiration for the man.

When the two men left, it was like something broke. Every pretense to look like muggle were gone, wizards were apparating like flies in every corner of the camp. Harry, the Weasley plus Hermione, went to buy souvenirs. Harry went for the fancier looking, taking several pairs of "omniocular" as the seller called it. He kept one for himself and presented the others to Ron and Hermione. The latter accepted it eagerly, while Ron was looking embarrassed and tried to refuse it. However, by know, Harry knew him very well so he managed to convince him saying that he would not get him anything for Christmas. It was a lie, he would for sure get him a gift for Christmas, but he knew money always was a sensible subject for his best friend.

And then, it was time for them to finally enter the stadium. Mr. Weasley led them to the Ministry Box no less, the best seat in the entire stadium. It was too good to be true. There is no way, with my luck, that I there are no payback for such good seats. Harry thought. And that jinxed it, first the encounter with that weird house-elf called Winky. Well at least, he got some news about his friend Dobby, he was trying to get a paid job according to her. The second was the fact that the Malfoy family joined them in the Top Box. The three of them looked dignified, surely because of their respective upbringings. Were it not for the permanent scowl on their faces, Harry could have taken them for royalties. Or was it what royalties looked like? For the few times he had seen the Muggle ones on TV, he was sure they always smiled, in public at least. Well for all they worth, they ARE from aristocracy. He reminded himself. After Mr. Malfoy was done with his taunting, his carbon copy felt the need to do exactly the same, looking at them with disdain. Harry did not as much as consider him. Maybe it was because of the recent happenings, but he could not see himself reacting the same way he did the past three years. One thing was weird though, the last Malfoy did not act like the others, her scowl was on her face alright, but she was staring at Harry with piercing eyes, as if she wanted to read the deeper part of his mind. The thought sent shivers down his spine as he diverted his eyes form the blond, and she followed her husband and son.

Then the mascots made their way onto the field, the first group, Mr. Weasley called them Veela. Harry nearly slapped himself after the spectacle he offered to everyone. He almost jumped out for Merlin's sake. Fortunately, Hermione brought him back to his senses, almost dragging him by the neck. That was stupid of me. How can I be such a mess every time I see a beautiful girl. First the elder Greengrass and now those Veela. I have to work that out, I'm sure, magic, in its greatness, must have something about controlling emotions, or at least masking them. The best would be to be like that figure. He was actually unnerving, but it worked, he was absolutely unreadable. The dark-haired boy thought while Leprechauns were entering the field. And honestly, I don't think I can do something like Snape and his indifference mask, I'm not an emotionless loser. It won't fit me.

Malfoy junior was smirking at Ron because of his eagerness to catch the gold coins, surely thinking about a new insults he could throw at him whenever he could. For the second time in the day, a pair of striking blue eyes were fixed on him burning a hole on the side of his head. However now Mrs. Malfoy had the corners of her lips slightly upwards as she looked at him and then back to where the Veela had returned. He quickly looked back in front of him, his ears bright red. She was one of the few women in the box, and it seemed that her attention was on him during the time he was making a fool of himself. He reassured himself with the fact that almost all the men in the entire stadium had the same reaction, so no one of them could have see him, right? He suddenly remembered who the woman was. Mrs. Malfoy, wife of Lucius Malfoy, and mother of Draco Malfoy. She would for sure tell them what happened, and he would never hear the end of it.

His attention was brought back to the field when the players of Bulgaria made their entrance, and then the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup started.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Tadaaaaaa, chapter completed. I hope it was to ur taste, and if not don't hesitate to tell me in reviews or pm, I take all criticisms when they're constructive ones, because I know I'm new to ff writing and I really need as much help as you can send me!

I will probably update Wednesday, but if I don't, I'm sorry to inform you that you will have to wait at least until Monday, because I will not be home for the weekend and I write on my fixed computer. Sorry about this guys.

See you soon!