Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and any company with a claim to the Harry Potter Trademark. I make no money out of this. Please don't sue me!
The Great Hall buzzed with life as Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, still finding it surreal to be back in Hogwarts surrounded by so many familiar faces – alive and well. The sun slipped through the windows on the roof and the clatter of cutlery and animated chatter filled the air, mingling with the enticing aroma of fresh toast and sizzling bacon.
Ron was already at the table, and by the empty plate next to him, already on his second serving of breakfast.
Harry smiled at his friend's appetite. He glanced around, noticing that the students' reactions towards him were different than he remembered from his own timeline. Their glances were more curious than hostile, as if they were trying to figure him out rather than judge him outright.
Harry caught sight of Cedric Diggory at the Hufflepuff table, who offered him a friendly smile before returning to his conversation with a fellow Hufflepuff. Harry felt a warmth spread through his chest, grateful for the change in atmosphere. He knew this was partly due to how he'd handled his name coming out of the Goblet of Fire, but he suspected Cedric had also played a part in shifting the general attitude towards him.
Hermione bustled into the Great Hall, her bushy hair bouncing with each step. She slid onto the bench next to Harry, barely giving herself time to breathe before launching into conversation.
"Harry, I've been in the library all morning and found seven books on the Triwizard Tournament," she said excitedly, brandishing a stack of thick, dusty volumes. "We need to start preparing right away."
"Seven, Hermione?" Ron raised an eyebrow, impressed by her dedication. "You've really outdone yourself this time."
"Never too prepared, Ronald." She turned back to Harry. "Do you have any idea what the first task will be? How are you preparing for it? Can you request help from a professor? If so, which one would be best? Oh, I'll need to build a planner!"
Ron and Harry exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter. Hermione huffed indignantly but couldn't suppress a small smile.
"Alright, alright," Harry said, still chuckling. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Hermione. I'm taking the tournament seriously, I promise."
"Good," she said, nodding firmly. "Now, have you thought about writing to Sirius? He might have some advice for you."
"Actually, that's a great idea. Thanks, Hermione." Harry rummaged through his bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill. He mentally called Hedwig and began penning a quick note to his godfather: "Padfoot, Not sure if you heard already but the Goblet was tricked into spitting out my name and now I have to participate in this ridiculous tournament. I'm ok, don't worry. Don't do anything stupid. Love, Harry." he check the note and decided to add "P.S. I know you will try to do something stupid anyway. Run all your ideas by Moony."
As he scribbled down the last words, Harry's thoughts drifted towards Sirius. Despite the danger surrounding his godfather, the idea of reaching out to him brought a sense of comfort that he couldn't quite explain. He immediately pushed away the dark memories of Sirius' death that threatened to take over.
Just as Harry finished writing the letter, a snowy-white blur appeared in the Great Hall. Hedwig flew gracefully towards him, landing on the table. A wave of happiness washed over Harry at the sight of his loyal friend.
"Hey there, girl," he greeted his owl, giving her some bacon from his plate, which she gobbled down in an instant. "I need you to deliver this to Padfoot for me." Hedwig hooted softly and soared out of the Great Hall as soon as Harry tied the letter to her leg.
"Come on, we'd better go," Hermione said, looking at the time. "We've got Potions class."
"Right," Ron agreed, shoving one last piece of toast into his mouth. The trio grabbed their bags and left the noisy hall.
As they descended the stairs leading to the dungeons, the air grew colder, and the walls more damp. The laughter of students faded behind them, replaced by the echoes of their own footsteps. Despite the gloominess of the space, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity, a strange comfort in the shadows that had once been his home.
"Ugh, I hate going down here," Ron muttered, pulling his robes tighter around himself. "Feels like we're walking straight into a tomb."
"Ron, don't be so melodramatic," Hermione chided. But her voice, too, held a note of unease.
Their journey was interrupted when they spotted a Slytherin student sporting a badge that read, "Support CEDRIC DIGGORY – The REAL Hogwarts Champion!" After a couple of seconds, it changed to "POTTER STINKS!"
"Harry, just ignore them," Ron advised, clenching his fists.
But instead of getting angry, Harry smiled. "You know, I actually find those badges quite funny."
"Really?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow. "I would have thought they'd get on your nerves."
"Sometimes, it's better to laugh at absurdity," Harry replied with a shrug. "It takes away their power to hurt you."
With a mischievous glint in his eye, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of the same badges they had just seen. He pinned one to his own robes before passing the others around to Ron and Hermione.
"Harry, where did you get these?" Hermione asked, eyeing the badge suspiciously.
"From a generous Slytherin student handing them out this morning," he lied smoothly, not wanting to reveal that he had made them himself. He was secretly grateful that the time meddling hadn't altered everything.
Ron hesitated, holding the badge between his fingers. "Are you sure we should be wearing these?"
"Wait until you see Malfoy's face when he spots us," Harry said, grinning slyly.
That seemed to do the trick; Ron's mischievous smile mirrored Harry's as he pinned the badge to his robes.
As they rounded the corner to the potions classroom, the trio spotted Draco Malfoy and his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, leaning against the wall. A smug expression crossed Draco's face when he saw the Gryffindors approaching. He pointed to his own gleaming badge, clearly expecting a reaction from Harry.
"Potter," he sneered, arranging his robes to call attention to the badge he was wearing. "Fancy seeing you here."
But his smirk faltered when he noticed the matching badges on Harry and his friends' robes. "What are you playing at, Potter? Why are you wearing that?"
"Ah, Draco," Harry said, feigning innocence. "I thought you'd never ask. I actually find these badges quite stylish." He smirked back, enjoying the way Malfoy's eyes narrowed with irritation.
For a moment, Malfoy was speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The sight only fuelled Harry's amusement, and he couldn't help but chuckle under his breath. Ron and Hermione exchanged amused glances, their earlier trepidation dissipating as they joined in on Harry's laughter.
"Potter, you're not supposed to like the badges!" Draco snarled, his face contorting with anger.
"Really?" Harry feigned confusion, tilting his head as if pondering a particularly difficult riddle. "Then why would the green in the badge have been designed to complement my eyes so well?"
"Wha—?" Draco sputtered, clearly thrown off-balance by Harry's response. "It doesn't—they don't—"
"Malfoy," Hermione interjected sweetly, an impish glint in her brown eyes, "I wasn't aware you knew so much about Harry's eyes."
"Shut up, Granger!" Draco snapped, his cheeks flushed with indignation. Then, in a venomous tone dripping with contempt, he added, "Mudblood."
At the utterance of that word, something primal and furious ignited within Harry. His wand seemed to leap into his hand, as though it sensed his rage and was eager to unleash it upon the world. Without thinking, Harry cast a wordless stunner at Malfoy, who was hit squarely in the chest, sending him flying backwards into the wall with a sickening thud.
The corridor fell silent, as all eyes fell on Harry, the students' expressions a mixture of shock and fear. At that moment, Harry realized the enormity of his mistake. He had allowed his temper to get the better of him, resulting in a display of power that he should not be able to perform.
"Potter!" Snape's voice cut through the silence like a knife as the professor came around the corner of the hallway.
The potions master stalked towards them, and Harry felt a cold knot of dread form in the pit of his stomach. He knew he had crossed a line.
"Explain yourself, Potter," Snape demanded.
"Malfoy insulted Hermione, sir," Harry interjected, his tone carefully measured despite the anger lingering beneath the surface. "I shouldn't have reacted like that, but—"
"Silence, Potter!" Snape snapped. He turned to Malfoy, who was lying on the floor like a ragdoll, and cast Enervate. As Draco sat up, rubbing the back of his head, Snape asked him coldly, "What happened?"
"I don't know, Professor," Malfoy replied, a hint of smug satisfaction in his voice as he glanced at Harry. "We were just waiting for class to start, and Potter attacked us out of nowhere."
"Is that so?" Snape's gaze flickered from Malfoy to Harry, his lips curling into a contemptuous sneer. "Potter, you will serve one month's detention and lose Gryffindor fifty points."
A collective gasp echoed through the gathered students, but Harry didn't seem surprised or indignant. Instead, he met Snape's steely glare.
"Yes, Professor," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I'm sorry."
Snape appeared taken aback by Harry's straightforward admission, but quickly recovered, his eyes narrowing again. "Very well. Now, everyone, get inside the classroom." The students filed in, casting curious glances at Harry, who stood rooted to the spot, his wand still clutched tightly in his hand. As Hermione passed by, her eyes locked onto his, filled with concern and unspoken questions.
"Later," Harry mouthed silently, and she nodded, her expression resolute.
"Potter, go to the headmaster's office," Snape commanded.
"The headmaster's office, sir?" Harry asked, confused as to the change.
"Was I not clear?" Snape replied, clearly annoyed, "Dumbledore has requested to handle your detentions this year." Snape turned on his heels and swept into the classroom, leaving Harry standing there.
As Harry began his trek towards the headmaster's office, he chastised himself for losing control, for letting Malfoy's taunts get under his skin so easily. He had been through worse, hadn't he? And yet, the old wounds still festered, ready to burst open at the slightest provocation.
As he navigated the maze-like passages, Harry's thoughts turned to Hermione. She would undoubtedly have questions about the speed and silence of his spellwork—questions that he would need to address sooner or later. But what could he say? That he had become a battle-hardened wizard, forced to adapt in order to survive?
No, he couldn't burden her with that truth. He needed something more palatable, something that wouldn't make her worry about the darkness that lurked within him.
The stone walls of the castle seemed to close in around him as he walked, their coldness reflecting his own inner turmoil. Through narrow windows, slivers of sunlight pierced the gloom, illuminating motes of dust suspended in midair and casting stark, angular patterns on the floor.
"Jelly Beans," Harry muttered as he reached the headmaster's office, and the gargoyle sprang to life, revealing the spiralling staircase leading up to the headmaster's office.
As Harry made it to the top of the stairs, the door to the headmaster's office swung open, revealing Dumbledore just about to leave, his long, purple cloak billowing behind him like a regal banner. His blue eyes twinkled as they met Harry's, and the corners of his mouth curved into a gentle smile.
"Ah, Harry," he said, amused. "I take it you've come about your detention with Severus?"
"Er, yes," Harry replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I might have cast a wordless stunner at Malfoy when he called Hermione a mudblood."
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression remained calm. "While I understand your desire to protect your friend, resorting to magic against a fellow student is not the answer, Harry."
"I know," Harry admitted, feeling his cheeks heat up. "I'm sorry, Albus. It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't," Dumbledore said softly. "It is not just the hostile magic, you should not showcase your abilities."
"I know, I know." Harry answered, head hung low "Now I need to figure out how to explain this to Hermione."
"I don't envy your position," Albus said with a chuckle "Miss Granger can be quite tenacious."
"You have no idea," Harry said, Dumbledore's humour lightening his mood. "By the way" He continued, a thought popping up in his mind, "Why did you tell Snape that you would be handling my detentions?"
"Ah, quite a stroke of genius if I may say so myself," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling madly "You see Harry, is against the rules for headmasters to help their champions, but as you are competing as an independent agent, there are no rules against some, shall we say, guidance from an old professor"
Harry realised what the headmaster was hinting at immediately "So you may or may not have implied to the professors that you would handle my detentions to help me through the tournament"
"And this may or may not give us a quite good excuse for what I'm sure will be many necessary discussions about this plan of yours," Albus said with a confident smile.
"This is brilliant Albus," Harry said.
"One learns a thing or two with age" Dumbledore answered freighting humility.
"This won't work for Hermione and Ron though," Harry said after a minute "Hermione is already too suspicious and we had our first meeting before my name came out of the Goblet"
"An excellent point," Dumbledore nodded, stroking his long, silver beard. "Perhaps you could tell them that I agreed to mentor you during the summer, in response to the dreams you've been having about Voldemort? That should provide a sufficient explanation for any...unusual abilities you might display."
"That may work," Harry said, feeling some relief, "They may feel hurt I didn't say anything until now, but I guess it is better than the alternative."
"I wouldn't advise lying to your friends if it wasn't necessary," Dumbledore continued. "Now, it's almost time for the Weighing of the Wands and I believe you just saved me the trouble of sending someone to find you."
"I aim to please, sir," Harry replied cheekily "After you"
"You are too kind, my boy," Albus responded mockingly and started descending the stairs, with Harry following close.