Well, here we are. It's been a while for this story. I can't promise regular updates but I'll try to be a bit more consistent. Oberon will probably take up most of my time, but I had a surprising amount of fun finishing this chapter. Anyways, please enjoy and leave some reviews. Most authors love those and I'm no exception.
~Harriet Azalea Potter~
'I could get used to this...' Her teenage mind supplied as she was twirled a couple of times before being pulled into Winston's embrace again. She followed his lead through the dance and found it to be far less demanding than the words of her peers would have made her believe. She had no experience with the act, but she pulled from her experiences in the air. The sudden turns and twists up there were much more challenging to perform. In comparison, the pre-concluded steps they danced through were tame. Almost boring.
That would be the case at least if her partner wasn't Winston Whittaker. Pressed close to his deceptively muscular body while moving at a rather high tempo meant she could sense those muscles shift and stretch seamlessly. The fluid way he moved made not letting her mind wander to far less innocent things a real challenge, but she managed thanks to her burgeoning occlumentic skills.
"That was a good waltz. I'm astonished by how quickly you picked it up to be honest."
Her boyfriend praised her with a soft voice. The vibrations sent a shiver down her spine but she behaved and allowed the smile that wanted to appear on her lips to show. As always, he was mesmerised for a short second before catching himself, making her revel in the fact that she was the only person who had such power over him. She knew of course that he simply allowed her to witness the effect she had on him, but that didn't make his reactions any less genuine.
He was making an effort to ease his self-control around her and she was thankful for that. His advanced mastery of Occlumency made him extremely hard to read if he didn't let her in. The fact that he consciously relaxed enough to let her read him had her smiling the whole day when she first realised it. A faux innocent grin hid in the corner of her lips when she answered thoughtfully with an impish gleam in her eyes.
"Thanks for the compliment but I don't think I deserve it. I had a good teacher, you see. Handsome too, I guess. You might even know him. He recently subdued two dragons and charmed a third. Real inspiring move, that. If he keeps it up, I might fall for him."
She released an over-the-top dreamy sigh and fluttered her eyes at him. He chuckled as his arms transitioned into a more casual hold. They leisurely encircled her and pulled her even closer. The soft and gentle way he held her always made her heartbeat quicken. Paradoxically, while her heart worked overtime, she felt her mind slow down as she relaxed into his arms. The cosy affection she never knew she craved ensconced her and she let the near-permanent tension seep out of her petite frame.
"Is that so... Maybe I should throw my hat into the ring and do something exceptional too, then? I am rather low-key, but winning your heart might just be a cause worth fighting for. I'd have to manage some truly impressive feats to keep up with you though. Protecting the source of Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel's immortality. Slaying a millennium old queen of serpents and surviving her bite. Casting a Patronus strong enough to make hundreds of Dementors and a fair amount of dark creatures who were at home in the Forbidden Forest flee the premises. How would I ever stand by your side if I couldn't match up to your grand and imposing deeds? I'm sure that handsome fellow had similar thoughts. Whyelse would he dare to challenge not one, but two dragons. And be desperate enough to successfully charm a third."
'Aahh, he's doing it again!' Her useless mind supplied as she hid her red face in his chest before glaring up at him. His smirk was just as infuriating as it was the first time he showed it off. And she couldn't even get angry at him because she could see his affection for her shining in his eyes! Why was he always bringing up those things? She was sure he could do everything she did and better! And yet, she couldn't deny that beneath all the embarrassment, there was a small measure of joy. Because she told him all the nitty gritty details, and he still stood by her.
She recounted for him the horrified realisation when she laid her eyes on the... thing growing from Quirrel's head along with the soul crushing guilt for killing him. She confessed to him the near-debilitating terror that surged through her when she faced down a snake thrice her height and more than thirty times her length. With tears in her eyes, she relived the bone chilling certainty that if she didn't manage to cast that Patronus charm, she'd lose any future she might have had along with her godfather. The one member of her family she hadn't yet lost. During all of it, he kept holding her steadily. Not once did he judge her for the blubbering mess she'd become by the end of it. Instead, he whispered encouraging words she couldn't even remember into her ear while keeping her shivering form in his warm embrace. She felt far lighter after that little breakdown and for some reason she wasn't even embarrassed about it. If she wasn't already sure, that would have been the moment she'd decided to keep him permanently.
And despite knowing everything about those incidents, he still insisted on expressing his pride in her. He wouldn't budge no matter how much she claimed that anyone could have done the same or better. That she was just lucky to balance out the dismal Fate that landed her in those situations. He just kept looking at her with that fondly exasperated expression as he humoured her heated claims until she was too embarrassed to continue before pulling her grumpy form into an embrace that made her melt. She stopped externalising her thoughts on the matter after the second time. It just wasn't worth having to hide and stew in her inability to make her case afterwards.
That didn't stop him from bringing up those moments from time to time though. And no matter what she said, he kept claiming them to be impressive feats. The worst(best) of it was that he earnestly believed that. She could tell as much from the look in his eyes. She couldn't deal with those glittery feelings when she spied the pride with which he looked at her. She sighed when she finally resurfaced from her woolgathering and calmed herself enough to return fire.
"Well, that wasn't even half of it, you know? Just his most public stunts. He's a bit too humble for his own good, you see. He has quite a few impressive deeds under his belt and never claimed any of them. He shares with his charming and delightful oddball of a sister the post of the ambassador for a sentient castle, for example. And not just that, oh no. He runs several reserves and pocket dimensions all around the planet solely for the cause of keeping hapless magical creatures safe and sound. He offers his hand to those in need of help, no matter which race or gender."
She pressed herself a bit closer to him and blinked upwards with innocent eyes. She knew the effect that particular look had on him. His arms tightened for a moment before he consciously eased the pressure a bit. She loved how considerate he was with her. He knew she despised small, closed off spaces. She hated being caged which translated directly in a love and yearning for freedom. Especially flying through the air, freed from the fetters of gravity. Her lips were quickly pulled into an impish smile, dimples and all, before she continued.
"I researched him a bit and guess what I found? Countless cases of students who were saved one way or another by him. Bullying. Misguided attempts at adventure. First years being lost in the giant maze they call a castle. So, so many people he helped. 'Just doing my job.' he always answers instead of properly receiving their gratitude. But they all understand he took up that 'job' to be in the position to help. Oh, I wonder if his heart has enough space for me still with so many people vying for a piece."
She finished with a genuine smile. 'Heh, take that!' She thought with glee when she saw the red dusting on his cheeks. It disappeared quickly, but it was more of a reaction than she usually got, so she counted this as a major win. Until he answered with a gentle whisper, his hot breath caressing her ear in a way that sent a hot flush through her body.
"Wonder no more, for you hold the entire thing in your gentle hands..."
'How does he throw around cheesy lines like this and sound so utterly genuine?!' She raged in her mind. It wasn't fair! She really couldn't compete with him in that regard. But was it even necessary? She did love the care with which he showered her and his attempts at romance were delightfully different. When he wasn't conducting them in front of half the school while butchering Shakespearean English, that was. She decided to simply enjoy it all and let her arms fall from his muscular chest to wind around his back. Slowly they swayed in the music that hadn't stopped during their little flirtatious interlude. 'If this is the tradeoff for being in a tournament that is likely to kill me, it might just be worth it.'
~Hermione Granger~
Whatever she expected him to be like, she certainly didn't think he'd laugh into her face when she confronted him. He reigned himself in while her indignant anger rose. Before she could explode into his face, he directed a gentle smile at her that made her anger dissipate like smoke in the wind.
"Sorry for that. I wasn't laughing at you. I was simply relieved that I didn't misjudge you after all."
Her confusion must have shown on her face because he signalled for her to follow him as he elaborated.
"I confess, I was bitterly disappointed when you abandoned your friendship with Harriet just like that. I know, I know. We didn't really know each other and I have no right to judge you, but you always seemed like someone who puts the well-being of your friends before your own. I expected you to be the pillar she needed in these trying times. Instead, you nearly dealt her the final blow."
Guilt once again rose in the depths of her guts, even more intense than usual. She could feel it churning in her innards and was of the firm opinion that she deserved the suffering it brought. His words were far more ominous than she'd expected. They were insinuating things she didn't want to think about and yet, she was forced to confront them in her mind. It was far too good at picking apart such clues.
"I don't think you truly understand just how much you mean to her. You weren't just a friend in her mind. You were Family, plain and simple. The relationship she had with you was special in all the right ways."
'How did this happen? I wanted to confront him and scout out his intentions! Why is he guilt tripping me and why is it working so well!' She knew the answer for that question of course. It was effective because he was right. They had a deeper connection than she ever hoped to have with another, and she squandered it in a fit of immature jealousy. She deserved the dressing down she was in the process of getting from him, even though his tone of voice and his jovial eyes didn't even hint at the fact that he was condemning her. With a flicker of levity in his voice, he continued.
"You blew it. Plain and simple. You, someone who prides themselves in being the mature one. The smart one. The logical one. Decided in your mind that your own continued supreme reign in all things academical was more important than a sisterly connection that would last a lifetime."
Oh, that smarted something fierce. It was as if he was taking her inner self loathing and giving it a different voice than her own. He was good at that, she conceded. And she deserved it. She could admit that much.
"But here's the thing. Even though she doesn't entirely realise it herself, she wants that connection back. It won't be like before. She won't let you in easily. You will have to seriously work to get back into her good graces. You will have to claw yourself up and show the grit I know you are capable of. And to truly repair that burned bridge, you'll need to put in even more effort than what goes into your precious education. But... it's not impossible. And if you manage to do it, your relationship will be stronger than ever before. Are you ready to put in your heart and Soul? To let her judge you by your future deeds and find you worthy or not?"
He was glancing at her from the corner of his eyes as he rekindled a hint of hope in her. They were serious despite the light smile on his lips. Of course, she knew the answer to his question. Only after losing what she had did she truly understand just how important it was. She'd do anything to revert time and take back all the nasty comments she spouted. She'd punch her former self in her self-righteous face, that little bitch. But since she wasn't capable of true time travel, she'd have to do it the hard way. She wouldn't grovel. She knew Harriet hated that. Instead, she'd show just how serious she was. She would prove herself worthy of rekindling their close bond. She'd do anything for it. Anything. Resolutely, she nodded with a steely glint in her eyes.
"Good. I'm honestly rooting for you. But let me tell you one thing. If you turn your back on her once again, there won't be a place to hide. I will find you and I will take everything that's important to you. I will utterly bury you and the only thought left in your head will be that you brought this upon you yourself. Do I make myself clear?"
She very nearly squeaked when he fully turned to her. The weight of his gaze multiplied several times over and his magical aura surged around him as his eyes glowed in an eerie light. She managed to keep from wetting herself but it was closer than she would have liked it to be. Collecting all the courage and fake bravado within her, she answered.
"R-... Right back at you! If you hurt her... Then I'll try to do the same! I will fail, and miserably at that, but when the light fades from my eyes they will be fixed forever in a judgemental stare... And! And I'll return to haunt you!"
He blinked and the spell around her was broken when he laughed once again. It was a surprisingly light-hearted one. One that elicited a hesitant grin from her.
"Oh, I expect nothing less and I'd deserve it too."
He easily agreed and sent her an open smile. In the depths of her mind, she admitted to herself that maybe she overreacted when she heard the rumours surrounding him. Afterwards, she realised that those spreading them were oftentimes those throwing jealous or rage-filled looks at him. And it wasn't as if there weren't voices defending him. More than that, there were actually some honour duels called by people who were offended on his behalf. Some even managed to officially appeal for one and those were conducted in the ministry in front of an official judge from the Duelling Circuit. Honour duels were serious business apparently.
The spontaneous and unofficial ones were illegal and broken up immediately if witnessed. She even saw him do it himself once or twice when he came across them in the corridors. The one time she was close enough to observe everything, he punished both sides fairly and then took the one aside who acted on his behalf. When he was done talking to him, Elliot Summerby if she didn't remember incorrectly, he went up to the other offending party and apologised for overreacting. Graham Montague's somewhat dumbfounded face was amusing enough to cause her lips to twitch despite her morose mood back then.
'He's not so bad I guess. Intelligent too. And they look cute together. She's always moments away from becoming either flustered or a complete hellraiser around him. Once I'm in her good graces again, I'll tease her relentlessly...' She didn't realise she was still following Whittaker until she entered an abandoned classroom with him and found herself under the curious scrutiny of the waiflike blonde he was around so often and Harriet herself. Self-consciously, she smiled and waved hesitantly.
"Uhm... Hi?"
Soon, she realised that she severely underestimated the eccentricities of one Luna Lovegood. She didn't leave that classroom with her sanity intact.
~Winston Whittaker~
"I swear! I'm only taking her as a friend! She wants to attend and I didn't ask anyone yet, so I offered to take her and she graciously accepted. Nothing more and nothing less."
He hid his amusement behind impassiveness as he watched Neville explain himself nervously. Had it been a year or two ago, he wouldn't have been able to get a straight word out of his mouth. 'He has grown into a splendid young man since I talked with him and Matron Longbottom about his wand. That stubborn vulture... I needed to send a Messenger Patronus to Ollivander to get my point across. That little piece of magic shut her up long enough for the old fellow to answer, which finally made her cave. Way too much effort was needed to sway her. That said...'
"I have a favourable impression of you, Neville. You are the heir of an impressive legacy, but you are down to earth and refuse to put on airs. I appreciate you for your attitude, your well hidden courageous heart, and your extensive knowledge of botany, both magical and mundane. Don't make me regret the trust I am putting in you here. If there is even a hair out of place on her head, other than the ones she dishevels herself by being the chaotic mooncalf we all know her to be, I will react... Unkindly. Did I make myself clear?"
Most others would have shied away or even cancelled the entire thing. Especially after his deeds during the first task. But Neville had more courage in his little toe than the entirety of those fake lions in the den. Oh, there were some true ones hidden there but those who clamoured the loudest were oftentimes those who grew up sheltered. They rarely had an idea of true bravery, only coasting by on a legacy of those who fought for their freedom. This lad was different though. He went through life scared by his own shadow.
Not through any fault of his own of course. A child is never at fault for experiencing terror in their own home. His family downright suppressed and harassed the poor fellow. Nevertheless, even as scared as he permanently was, he managed to stride forward, step by step. He thought he was as close to a squib as a Wizard can possibly be because his rather sizable reservoir of magic was exceedingly stable and not at all prone to the usual bursts of accidental magic. In spite of his belief, he still went to Hogwarts. He worked his arse off and managed to pull through with about average grades despite handling a wand utterly unsuited for him. And to add insult to injury, its true owner was still alive. The focus fought him every step of the way, but he unconsciously brute-forced his way through the early grades, showing a massive well of willpower at an early age.
Once he was shown that he could be more than a weak coward, he pounced on the chance. He defended the choice to get his own wand ferociously enough to impress even his old gran after she wanted to back paddle at Ollivander's. He showed her that there was a true lion slumbering in the seemingly harmless boy and that satisfied her enough to give in. As such, there was definitely some fear in his eyes when he met his piercing gaze with his own hesitant one, but he didn't look away and refused to give in to his timidness. Instead, he uttered a ludicrous statement.
"I will defend her with my life."
Winston blinked in surprise. It wasn't the words, but the genuine intent behind them that stunned him for a moment. He could feel it with his magical senses. He meant it. He'd lay down his life for Luna should it become necessary. Grudgingly, he accepted that maybe the guy would be an acceptable choice for her. In a decade or two after he had time to refine this raw diamond into a gem worthy of the self-styled fairy queen that was his sister. He smiled calmly as he answered his resolve with appreciation before shifting the topic to something else.
"Good. I'll hold you to it. Now, there is something else I want to talk about with you. What would you think of rekindling the business relations between House Longbottom and House Potter with me as an intermediary? There are several business opportunities to be had and I think this could be a fantastic way to reform the formidable alliance between your Houses. Harriet has already proclaimed to be open for talks and it would be a pleasure to watch the dark faction panic with its revival."
His amused smile was shortly mirrored by Neville before it was replaced by a thoughtful frown.
"Honestly, reviving the alliance alone would already be worth a lot. I'm not a political mastermind but I do have the training of an Heir Apparent of a Noble and Most Ancient House. The situation for the Light side isn't great at the moment. Not to mention that we do have internal discrepancies too. My gran absolutely loathes Dumbledore for rallying against the kiss for proven Deatheaters and votes against his followers whenever the agenda doesn't push too far into the dark. I'm not too fond of that decision either if I am entirely honest. Having the Potter/Longbottom Alliance as our Flagship again would undoubtedly unite our front and convince some of the neutral houses to choose a side."
He wouldn't get between the old vulture and Dumbledore. That was a recipe for disaster. That said, he was right of course. The political landscape would change considerably. Shifting the fate of the country wasn't his primary goal for this venture. Just a pleasant side effect. This discussion would likely take a while so he asked for some snacks from Dobby. He should have known better. The overeager elf provided enough food to feed an entire classroom twice over, much to Neville's confusion. With a sigh, he invited him to feast with him and explained the possible business ventures he had planned along with what he was willing to offer to sponsor their joint projects.
"Are you sure you want to... No, you wouldn't offer that much if you weren't sure. Silly me. Hmm... I'll say I'm carefully optimistic that this will work out but I'll have to discuss this with my gran. I do have the authority to make the decision, but she's simply more experienced than me and I value her opinion."
He stated seriously before biting into his club-sandwich and throwing some chips into his mouth after the bite. Winston could certainly appreciate the foresight to discuss their plans with a more experienced business woman. While he disliked her for being a stubborn old fool who was far too set in her ways, he could admit that she was an intelligent and shrewd woman who knew her way around politics and business. As such, he nodded with a light smile on his lips.
"That's fine. I didn't expect a conclusive answer today. I simply wanted to inform you of the possibilities and open up talks. Now to more personal matters, since you were kind enough to teach me that tweaked Floral Preservation Charm, let me reciprocate by teaching you a personalised shield charm of mine. First, you have to understand..."
He spent the next half hour explaining the intricacies of his Fortis Obstructio to the intently listening Heir Apparent. The spell was a strong allrounder shield that was effective against physical and most magical threats. Once mastered, it encased the area around the caster with an opaque barrier that would hold up well against most common Magicks and could be both, strengthened and layered. Even Shieldbreakers and Piercing Hexes had a hard time punching through this shield if it was fed by a strong enough source. Neville was a bit unsuited for delicate work at the moment since he wasn't yet entirely used to not having to fight his focus for every inch. Since his magic flowed freely through his new wand, he overpowered nearly every spell, which was why his banishers had a distinctive similarity to cannonball charms. The thick flow of his magic would only aid him in mastering this spell however, since it was primarily based around power instead of delicate control.
They split some time later, with Neville being proud of the somewhat stable barrier he managed to conjure. It was impressive too since he only needed three tries for his first flickering results. 'Once he masters this one, he'll be able to better protect my little chaos pixie. I'll make a bodyguard out of him.' He thought to himself. If the boy with the questionable name wanted to spend time with Luna, he'd better be ready for it. That wasn't just his overprotective side speaking. Luna's adventures lead her into all kinds of strange situations, more often than not out of her own volition. Not all of them could be solved peacefully, nor was peace always the solution she chose despite her generally non-confrontational personality.
He well remembered the horrors she unleashed in Japan when a prank war with a kitsune went entirely out of control. No one should ever mistake her hesitance to use violent means with helplessness. There was a narrow ridge between genius and insanity and she liked to play hopscotch with it. If he didn't want to be dead weight, he needed to be a capable caster at the very least. To walk alongside his sister, one needed strong nerves, an open mind, and a steady wand-arm. A fit body would help too. Already, he was planning to force the Longbottom Heir into a rigorous workout program. Somewhere close to the Gryffindor Common room, a returning lion shuddered from the sudden foreboding chill that invaded his body out of nowhere.
With those thoughts on his mind, he entered the Room of Requirement, only to blink as he had a gym in front of him that mixed the magical with the mundane. Magically adjustable weights, resistance bands that automatically adjusted to your limits, gym machines that assisted you in finding your perfect form for the exercises, just all around everything one could wish for to get a good and effective workout. With a wry smile, he thought to himself. 'I have an hour or two to burn. Might as well get a decent workout in. It's been a while since I pushed my body to its limits.'
~Luna Lovegood~
The room already had an occupant. That was what Hogwarts 'told' her. And since Azalea was besides her, waiting for her to open the room, it was likely to be Winston. 'Hmm, what to do. Join him? Take Azalea to hunt horrifying horological Heffalumps? Was she even ready for those critters? Or maybe another relaxing and delectable bath in the Pudding Spa? I wonder which flavour I'd get this time? The last one was Mint-Lemon if my memory serves me right.' Decisions had to be made, but she didn't subscribe to the belief that they had to be made consciously. She closed her eyes and wandered in front of the wall while keeping her conscious thoughts from rising to the forefront with the help of her Occlumency. When the minor ritual was completed, a rather modern door appeared, much to Azalea's surprise.
"Why does this look like the entrance of a gym?"
She asked curiously and for once, Luna had no answer. 'Do I have a secret desire to become a magical muscle mommy? Or do I want to make Azalea into one to reign in Winnie?' Her soul-searching came up with nothing conclusive and she was just as befuddled as before. A rare but refreshing state to be in for her. Usually she left it for others to fall into such a headspace. With muddled thoughts and in a state of profound confusion, she smiled brightly before stepping forward.
"Well, here goes nothing!"
She concluded her thoughts vocally and waited in front of the door until it opened automatically.
"Ku... Po! Ku... Po! Ku... Po!"
A surprised blink later she stood there, watching the almost comical sight of a topless Winnie with heavy chains weighing down his body. On his head sat the as of yet nameless Moogle that was attached to Azalea and he chanted his signature phrase with every pull-up her adopted brother finished, presumably to motivate him. Sweat was running down his well-muscled body as he pushed himself time and time again to finish a 'rep' as he called it. She had heard the other girl enter behind her and looked backwards curiously only to feel a mischievous smirk spread on her lips.
"It seems the amorous hornbees got to you after all, didn't they?"
She teased lightly and earned herself a small blush from the bespectacled beauty. She actively forced herself to look away from her topless boyfriend much to Luna's confusion. Whyever would she do that? There was no need to be embarrassed about finding one's significant other to be physically attractive. That's what she thought at least. Others had differing opinions it seemed. That was when Winnie concluded his 'set' and decided to finish up his workout.
With a quick flick of his empty hand, the sweat disappeared and a pleasant but indistinctive scent spread through the room. A second wave caused a shirt to zoom into his waiting hand. She noted the very slight disappointed frown on Azalea's brow before it vanished immediately and smiled secretly to herself. After dressing himself, he approached them with a grin that caused Azalea to blush lightly. She didn't avoid his teasing eyes however. Luna pulled away silently to give them the space to dance around each other. They were rather determined to keep up a schedule of daily mating dances. They went through great lengths to show their devotion which was something she could appreciate better from afar.
They reminded her of a pair of Mirrored Rottbrambles. Only far more attractive. She decided to put her best friends and siblings out of her mind and begin working on the dress she would end up wearing to the dance she was rather surprisingly invited to. The accessories were already perfected, consisting of a new and stylish butterbeer-cork necklace along with her mother's handcrafted dirigible plum earrings. The dress would be woven from moonsilver with a technique she had learned from a Lunatic Fairy with a name unspeakable even for her. She tried valiantly, but her throat gave up in her stead. A regrettable matter but quite unavoidable in those circumstances. Luckily, her try was valiant enough to earn herself some goodwill and humorous enough to cause a rise in their mood, which warranted for her to be taught this one technique.
As she worked, she periodically glanced towards the other occupants of the room and shook her head in amusement. They were clearly smitten with each other but they insisted on taking it slow. Well, Winnie insisted and Azalea agreed as she didn't really care either way. She enjoyed the experience and adored the intimacy she so craved. 'Well, to each their own I suppose.' She mused as she subtly stitched a poem her mother had created into the seam of her moonlit dress. It was a birthday present, given only months before she perished in a tragic accident during spell creation and she held it dear to her heart.
The only one she freely shared it with was Winston. Not even her father had heard or read it. To be fair, Winston earned the right by reclaiming the original from the Nargles. And now, she'd share it with anyone who had the ability to perceive it. The reason wasn't quite a whim. More a flight of fancy really. Or maybe It was the result of her foibles? Whatever the reason, it wasn't very likely that anyone other than Winston would be capable of reading it anyways. Only those with an open mind and a firm will could see through the enchantment she'd woven into those threads. Very few would be able to glimpse at its true form. Most would only see nonsensical squiggles and already, she was concocting the most outlandish answers to the confused questions she'd undoubtedly end up being asked.
An airy giggle made it past her lips when she imagined the many discombobulated expressions she would once again be the cause of and several whimsical fairies decided to take the sound as an invite to dance with her. Thinking for a moment, she shrugged. It was time for a break anyways so she might as well indulge them. Drawing an indulgent smile and an amused quirk of full lips in the process, she joined the Fae in their never ending merriment. Maybe today was the day they'd finally accept that the Wild Hunt needed more pink in their uniforms?
~Draco Malfoy~
He hated it. He hated every single minute of it. This was supposed to be the year where she'd finally break down. Where she'd become his and his alone. He knew she didn't enter herself, no matter how much he pushed the agenda that he believed otherwise. There was no real reason for her to do so after all and the way she grew more and more miserable the closer the first task came only solidified his certainty. He anticipated the moment she'd break down after being personally responsible for the irreversible break in the bond between her and the mudblood. It was the longest running scheme he'd ever planned and it worked splendidly until someone from the outside interfered.
He knew beforehand that the tournament would come to Hogwarts. His father having the ear of that joke with a bowler hat did come with some perks after all. He also knew that Potter would somehow be involved. It always happened. If anything unusual occurred, she'd be in the middle of it. So he began to exercise that Slytherin cunning he seemingly lacked. He knew he had a bit of a temper from both sides of the family and that it was hard to control, so he used that to his advantage to create the illusion that he was nothing more than a scaled lion. A Slytherin in name and legacy only. A sardonic grin twisted his lips as he inwardly mocked and thanked them for underestimating him. It paid off after all and his plot went through without a hitch.
That mudblood Granger was jealous of Potter's surprising academic prowess, but she had herself well enough under control, prioritising her friendship over her negative emotions. Until he got her with a delayed and subtle Compulsion in the library, causing her to act on her emotions. Since he only pushed to the surface what was already there and lowered her inhibitions enough to be overwhelmed, it went completely unnoticed. That was at the end of last year, but he underestimated their bond. Luckily, he noticed that they had begun to repair their relationship when he met them at the Quidditch World Cup so he had some time to plan and plot. With the help of his godfather, he brewed a modified version of the Draught of Envy that wouldn't show up on general detection and medical diagnosis charms. He just had to wait for the right moment to use it. That moment came when everyone was distracted by Potter's name coming out of the Goblet.
In the chaos that followed, no one noticed him skulking just a bit closer to the Gryffindor table to cast a switching charm. He almost made the mistake of using the switching spell while planning out his plot, which would have been completely useless since that one was a cosmetic change of two objects and nothing more. But he didn't. He succeeded and noticed how that mudblood Granger and Potter drifted apart, causing him to silently rejoice. Now all he needed to do was wait until she broke. He would then sweep in and offer his help to pull out of the Tournament. For a price of course. He would have had her swear an Unbreakable Oath after completely shattering her with the news that the first task involved Dragons. He fantasised of her kneeling to his feet and responding to his every whim, submissive and broken. It wouldn't have been all that hard to keep her alive, he thought. He just had to ask his father to push that useless moron Fudge into declaring her unfit or something. That should have done the trick.
He was so close. A few more days and she would have broken. He could already taste her skin and hear her cries... But then... She got better all of a sudden. Her recovery was a rapid one and the headstrong and powerful witch he had come to know regrettably resurfaced from the broken shell she'd become. It took him a while to find the reason but when he did, he couldn't help but gnash his teeth in anger and rip his best silken covers apart in his fury. Whittaker! The premier mudblood and one that was somewhat respected even among the more moderate Slytherin. Cause for that cautious respect was the fact that he followed the olde path. He didn't try to do away with millennia of hallowed traditions and instead seemingly honoured them. He scoffed at the thought. As if a mudblood could ever understand what those traditions truly represented. He wasn't born into their world. He was nothing more than an invader, just a more insidious and dangerous breed than the obvious ones.
And now he'd done the unforgivable. He stole his prey. Potter didn't just recover. Under his guidance, she flourished. He noticed that her wandwork was growing quicker and quicker. From time to time, she'd accidentally silent-cast without noticing. Her theoretical understanding was growing too and she seemed far more in tune with her magic. He even noticed a flicker of a magical aura around her once! His prey was growing more and more formidable and he didn't know what to do! He had to get Whittaker out of the picture, but how? He knew the mudblood was formidable. He had no illusions of being capable of facing him head-on. He was prideful, but certainly not suicidal. So what to do? How could he remove him from the board so that he could continue to work on subduing that stubborn wench and paying her back for the humiliation he suffered at her hand when he tried to discourage her with the badges.
'Maybe I can use Granger again? Or that blonde blood traitor Lovegood? The Yule Ball will pose a chance, but how would I even use it? I'll have to think of something. I can't let an uppity mudblood steal from me...' His dark and brooding thoughts continued to spiral and his obsession festered as the few morals he still held onto became looser and looser.