Disclaimer: Well, I guess that even a Time-Skip later, I'm still not the owner of Harry Potter.
magocrat777: Hi ! If I started translating the story a bit before, I would probably have agreed with you and done that. However, the french version slowly coming to an end, I think it is better for me to finish it, and then give everything I have into translating it. Still, thanks for the suggestion. I appreciate it. Take care, and have a great day !
Kageknuser2710: Thanks a lot for your support. That helps a lot, really. I'm so glad that you enjoy the story. I hope that will go on until its last chapter ! About Harry's current power level, don't worry. He will be stronger... A lot stronger... But far from Hadrian. That man is clearly on another level, and giving Harry as much power as him would totally ruin the story I think. But maybe at one point, they will be equals. I mean, at some point, someone needs to take over when Hadrian won't be there anymore. Anyway, thanks again, take care, and have a wonderful day !
Koldbones: Okay, so that's it. Before, you still were complaining of the story, so I had to answer you. You were taking your time to read it, so it was my job as the author, even if I didn't want to, to answer you. However, that last review was pure hatred directed to me only because... I'm french. It had nothing to do with the story. Comparing an author to the caracters they write is pure bullshit. Otherwise, then many fanfiction authors are terrible people. What you said was uncalled for, and I won't be answering you anymore, even if you make a review about the story. Take care of yourself, and if you stop reading my fanfiction, I hope you'll find something better. Have a good day.
gv100: Hey ! Well, I'm sorry but it won't be a op Daphne. But still, she won't be the "weak girl". When it comes to fighting, as long as it is one on one, she is able to hold her own against many strong opponents. But well, you'll see it yourself when she'll fight. Thanks for reading, and take care of yourself !
Lord Frederick: Hey ! I had someone on AO3 that said the exact same thing. I didn't thought about that when I was writing it, but it surely looks like it (with the difference that Jiraya is probably a better parent than poor Hadrian). Anyway, thanks for reading my story, and take care !
CaskettFan5: Still here ? Hahaha, I thought I would annoy you at some point. I'm glad to see you held 18 chapters. I'm also happy to know it surprised you, that's the goal. I don't want to write a linear story, with only the perfect "time travel fix everything" run. And to do that in a way that amuses me, that goes through plot changes. Meanwhile, I'm glad you liked the Harry/Daphne scenes. There will have much more after the time skip, so even though I'm terrible at romance, I hope you'll like them ! Take care, and have a great day !
Hey everyone. So here's the new chapter. Let's be honest... I almost wanted to stop translating the fanfiction at the Time-Skip, knowing that I would probably be insulted with this chapter. But you know what ? I'm translating for myself, so I'll continue.
The only thing I'll say with what happened there is... wait and see. Things might not be what they look like to be. Or they might... Who knows ?
Oh, and one thing. School is coming back for me, so I'll probably come down to one chapter a week UNTIL I have finished the french version. At that point, the only thing I'll have to do will be to translate, and I'll be able to come back to two chapters a week. Sorry, and I hope I'll keep you all with me until the last chapter. If not, I wish you the best, and to find a story that suits your tastes ! Take care everyone !
?0/?7/?4, ?0H?1, ?, ?U?S?A:
A figure, covered entirely by black robes, advanced alone through a remote Russian town. This figure, distinguishable only by their shining eyes, was skillfully hidden behind several charms.
In the shadowy alleys of the city, the wizard scrutinised the streets plunged into the darkness of the night. His richly adorned wand was his sole source of light in this place enveloped in mystery.
Suddenly, his piercing gaze detected a small group of men concealed in the back of an alley. Their furtive attitude suggested a feverish anticipation. "He should arrive soon," one of them whispered to his accomplice, "make sure he doesn't discover our intentions. Our whole plan depends on it."
Unfortunately for them, the wizard had intercepted their murmurs. With a silent step, he infiltrated behind the group and dispelled the magical veil that enveloped him.
"What am I supposed to ignore?" he hissed in the ear of the man who had spoken previously, his voice hushed but firm.
To his credit, the man didn't flinch and turned around promptly, brandishing his wand to cast a devastating spell. Caught off guard by this unexpected reaction, the figure was struck squarely in the stomach and violently thrown backward.
"Did we get him?" one of the man's companions inquired, before being silenced by an imperious gesture.
With a low growl of anger, the strange wizard straightened up, without any apparent injury. In a fluid motion, he drew an arc with his wand, projecting a crackling electric whip in its path.
The wizard who had cast the initial spell reacted without delay, erecting a protective shield as his two comrades threw themselves to the ground. The shield wavered dangerously under the electric assault but managed to protect the trio long enough for them to put themselves out of range of the attack.
The unknown man, noting the failure of his offensive, was about to cast a new spell when a blinding flash suddenly illuminated the scene.
The quarters of the town, once plunged into a darkness so deep that he could hardly make out his own feet, were now bathed in a harsh light. The wizard then discovered a horde of wizards, werewolves, and other fantastic creatures emerging from the shadow, their wands pointed menacingly at him.
"Ah, so it's a trap," he sighed after analysing the situation with a critical eye. 'I suppose that's what the three fools were murmuring about.'
Surprisingly, no sign of panic appeared on his face. Surrounded by more than a hundred enemies, he stood tall, his wand firmly gripped in his hand, ready to engage in a fierce battle for his survival.
But as he was about to cast his first spell, a wizard detached himself from the group in front of him, distinct from the men and women in black who surrounded him. "Alexei! It's been so long since I've started looking for you! You're really not easy to find, my word!" the figure exclaimed, recognizing the man's face.
Alexei smiled, surprising the unknown wizard. "Indeed, indeed. You've certainly caused me a lot of trouble. Unfortunately for you, it ends today." He then took out his wand, an ivory white that made the unknown wizard raise an eyebrow, before pandemonium broke out.
All around the solitary mage, a tempest of black flames descended, propelling creatures and nearby adversaries backward. A few unlucky were burned alive and perished instantly.
Taking advantage of the situation, the man fled into one of the alleys and apparated onto a rooftop. Landing there, he found himself facing a squad of about ten wizards who were waiting for him. Flashes of lightning erupted from all sides, while spells flew. At the same time, the group of twenty werewolves, led by Fenrir Greyback, managed to reach the roof on which he stood.
Faced with this new threat, the figure amplified the firestorm and took control of it with his wandless hand. With the other hand, he redirected the incoming spells back to their senders and began to run, jumping from roof to roof and dodging the various creatures that assailed him.
Suddenly, he raised his head and, concentrating his magic in his legs, jumped to a prodigious height. This jump saved him from the dive of a dragon that, until now, was hidden by a powerful concealment spell.
'Concealment magic was never one of Alexei's skills! What the hell is going on here?!' the mage exclaimed inwardly as he rolled on the ground to cushion his fall.
He then resumed his run, sliding on the wet, sloping roof. He cast several cutting spells, mixed with a strange magic that only those adept in time magic could understand. This killed several of his opponents.
Unfortunately, he couldn't savour his victory, as he had to keep running at the risk of being hit by the numerous spells sent in his direction.
His mad dash continued until he reached the end of the building on which he stood, giving him a global view of the street below.
One detail intrigued him. They had all been fighting for several minutes in a Muggle area. Yet, so far, outside of his attackers, he had not detected or seen any sign of life. He then realised that Alexei had probably already eliminated all the inhabitants in the perimeter.
Shaking his head in disgust, he leaped into the street and landed in front of the Russian and most of his forces still able to fight. Seeing that they had cornered him, they assaulted him with curses. For anyone in this situation, such a volley of spells would have meant an immediate end. But for the unknown mage, such an unworthy end was inconceivable.
With astonishing dexterity, he began to repel and deflect almost all of the attacks directed at him. A glacial aura emanated from him, while his wand danced with precision between the enemy spells.
Two white orbs blinded the mages in front of him, while a firestorm continued to ravage the area. The magical power he exuded was terrifying, rivalling the greatest mages in existence, or even surpassing them.
Alexei, noting the ineffectiveness of their assaults, concentrated his power and cast a killing curse on his opponent. The mage, anticipating the attack, tried to apparate. However, anti-apparition protections had been put in place, apparently to prevent him from fleeing.
'Damn... Alright, let's go all out then. Alexei's reserves aren't developed enough to stand up to me,' thought the man in black before launching his own killing curse at the Russian.
A green net formed, connecting the two enemy wands. The dark figure concentrated the firestorm into a small sphere and projected it into the heart of the enemy group, annihilating a large number of opponents in a flash.
Having done that, he focused on the duel of strength against Alexei, beginning to push the killing curse back towards his enemy who grimaced, before realising a problem.
'My magic core is emptying way too fast! What the hell is going on? Since when did Alexei possess such strength!' the man exclaimed before breaking the link and conjuring a block of concrete in front of him. It exploded under the effect of the adverse attack, inflicting a few cuts on the figure who flew away like a Dementor. He rejoined the roof from which he had come and fled in the opposite direction.
The action shocked Alexei, who for some unknown reason, seemed surprised that someone could fly without a broom.
'Something's wrong. I was expected to come, that's for sure, but there's more to it... What could it be…? Think, damn it!'
The mage then flew up, rising high into the sky to confront the dragon that had been attacking him from above. A brief aerial duel ensued, where the two adversaries tried to overthrow each other.
The mage, narrowly dodging the sharp jaw of the grey-scaled dragon, conjured magical chains and wrapped them around the creature, sealing its gaping maw. The chains also immobilised the dragon's wings, forcing it to dive at high speed towards the ground. Given the height and speed of its fall, it was obvious that the beast wasn't going to survive.
However, probably in a last desperate attempt to bring down his flying opponent, the dragon breathed fire... from its nostrils.
This rather unexpected attack took the floating mage by surprise who cried out in pain. The dragon's flames, projected at point-blank range and on someone without any protection against this type of attack, severely burned him.
The mage then fled, landing shakingly on the roof from which he had taken off. The dragon, still bound by the magical chains, crashed headfirst into the ground, perishing instantly.
For an outside observer, the figure would undoubtedly have been declared the winner. Indeed, he had eliminated nearly eighty percent of his attackers, including formidable magical creatures. He had managed to repel one of the most powerful dark wizards of the current era, while limiting his injuries to a few cuts and burns.
However, the situation was very different for the mage himself. Although he knew that many enemies had fallen under his wand, he still didn't know the number of survivors facing him. Moreover, slowly but surely, fatigue and injuries were accumulating on his body.
Suddenly, he was forced to block a sickly yellow spell launched in his direction with brute force. The wall on which the spell had been deflected collapsed under the impact. This spell, although powerful, would only have been a temporary source of concern for an ordinary wizard. But for the figure, it had a very different impact.
'A spell from the Black Family Grimoire?! What the hell is going on here!'
He looked in the direction from which the attack came and saw Alexei, closely followed by a witch with long black hair. No sound seemed to come from her, as if all the noises made by her body had been concealed under powerful protective spells.
The figure's eyes narrowed. He managed to discern the presence of a transfiguration spell, as well as one blocking sound, but couldn't see through it.
The two mages facing him, without a word, began to assail him again. He retaliated, deflecting and counterattacking when he had the opportunity.
However, his opponents proved themselves to be of far greater power than normal. Of course, that didn't stop him from hitting them violently, managing to cut off an ear and several fingers of the woman's wand hand, and leaving deep lacerations in Alexei's body.
The figure's strength secretly terrified the duo. Each of them was exceptionally powerful, and yet the man was able to hold his own against them alone, after having swept away a small army of men and beasts.
However, this wasn't without cost. The mage was also hit several times. His body was lacerated, and several of his bones were broken. A cutting spell also hit him in the face, tearing a piece of his cheek, leaving several of his teeth exposed.
The figure, not giving up, scanned the surroundings. He observed the presence of four wizards, two vampires, and a werewolf - whom he immediately recognized, as he was the only one he had not yet managed to kill: Fenrir Greyback - hidden in the shadows. They were waiting. What for? He didn't know, and didn't want to know.
'I have to get rid of them. Otherwise, I won't be able to concentrate on the fight!' he thought, planting his wand into the ground.
This took the attacking duo by surprise. Indeed, all around them, gravity quadrupled, crushing them violently to the ground. Every second, the gravitational force increased, forcing them to concentrate their magic in their knees to avoid collapsing. The two grimaced as they slowly crawled out of the affected area.
The figure, now bloodied and badly wounded, flew again and dropped himself in the middle of the last surviving enemies. At a speed that defied logic, he launched overpowered cutting spells at the wizards who died sliced in two, dodged Fenrir's punch and banished him into rubble, which collapsed on him. The next instant, he felt the powerful Alpha's magical aura extinguish once and for all.
Continuing in the same vein, he conjured two silver stakes that he plunged into the chests of the two surviving vampires.
The effort had tired him, and the previous fall had injured his right leg, but he managed to get back up from the ground he had fallen on after defeating the vampires.
However, that same roof exploded beneath him as Alexei, looking more haggard than ever, and the strange masked dark witch destroyed it.
Forcing himself to turn in mid-air, he managed to limit the damage caused by his fall, and rolled on the ground to avoid the various incoming spells.
He then conjured a shield in front of him and tore the ground at his feet, creating a wide band of earth. He followed by transforming this same band into several spears that he redirected at his attackers.
Feeling that the reserves of his magic core were nearing their limit, the figure drew the revolver from his hip and quickly fired six shots at his opponents. They, barely managing to repel the stakes, were hit by the bullets. This managed to knock the woman unconscious. Unfortunately, unlike the werewolf, he could still feel her magic, indicating that he had failed to eliminate her.
This seemed to enrage Alexei who, with a wave of his wand, summoned a huge Fire Basilisk... A Fire Basilisk?!
"Damn it! You're not Alexei, you're-". The figure couldn't finish his sentence, as the supposed Alexei, taking advantage of the man's surprise and the Fiendfyre, hit him with a powerful cutting spell on his leg.
The figure collapsed to the ground, his right leg severed cleanly at the knee. He cried out in pain, as he forced his magic to limit the damage.
Gritting his teeth, he grabbed his wand and regained control of the opposing Fiendfyre. Using the remnants of his strength, he returned the spell to its sender who was in turn badly burned.
"Alexei", hit by the spell, had to drop the charms that hid him. The mage on the ground, seeing this, turned all his attention to the man who emerged limping from the flames.
"Voldemort!" he growled, immediately recognizing the snake-faced man despite the injuries that disfigured him.
The presence of the Dark Lord seemed to take the mage by surprise. However, the part that seemed to bother him the most wasn't the strange appearance of one of the worst Dark Lords of all time who was supposed to be dead. It was the timing of this appearance.
"How do you have a body?!" the figure growled, glaring at the Dark Lord who, although satisfied with his "victory", returned the gaze.
"Several of my friends have been looking for me," hissed the man, letting out a mocking laugh at the word "friends". "I have to thank you, Ghost. It's thanks to the information and advice of my dear Bellatrix that I decided to change my plans regarding the Potter boy. And without you, she would never have been freed," Voldemort laughed coldly, placing his foot on Ghost's chest.
"I had planned to forgive you, you know," he lied with a nasty smile. "But, with what you've done to my men, I have to kill you. It grieves me terribly, you know? I don't like taking the lives of pure-bloods...", he declared in a mocking tone that clearly showed he thought the opposite.
Ghost coughed up blood. The fact that he was still alive was nothing short of a miracle according to Voldemort. The man had one leg half amputated, lacerations all over his body to the point that he seemed to have been used as a knife sharpener, all accompanied by severe burns.
Ultimately, each wound, except for the leg, could be individually healed. But the survivor's ability to endure everything showed that the wizard at his feet was no more human than he was.
Ghost pushed Voldemort back with a spell, gritting his teeth and using the pain that ran through his body, and began to crawl backward. However, he was stopped by a man he recognized immediately. It was a Death Eater who was part of Voldemort's inner circle, and who seemed to have escaped during his attack on Azkaban.
Ghost, on death's door, scanned the face of the man who looked at him with disdain. He forced himself to raise his wand before a disarming spell struck him, causing his wand to roll a few metres away from him.
"My Lord, permission to end this insect's life?" asked Antonin Dolohov, pointing his wand at Ghost, collapsed on the ground.
Voldemort forced himself to emerge from the rubble, covered in wounds. Seeing that Ghost had been intercepted by one of his men, he decided to fly away, preferring not to show that he had been left on the verge of death against a far disadvantaged man.
"Permission granted. Do it... quickly. Then, recover the idiots who survived and join me at Malfoy Manor. Ghost made us lose enough men and time as it is," Voldemort declared coldly, looking down at the scene.
After that, he forced his remaining magic to alter the traces he had left. Thanks to this, not only did he remove any residue that could have indicated his presence, but he replaced it with Alexei's magical signature.
Every wizard has a magical signature. This is what makes it possible to identify mages around the world and trace their movements. However, some wizards are skilled enough to copy the trace of other sorcerers they have spent time with.
That said, due to the power required to perform such a feat, this possibility was often overlooked. And Voldemort was going to take advantage of it.
He had met Alexei when he had recovered a body, and after a relatively lively discussion, had managed to reproduce the man's signature.
Once this was done, he descended towards Bellatrix's body, also on death's door, and placed a portkey on her stomach.
He then raised his head towards Dolohov who pointed his wand at Ghost's throat.
"Farewell, Hadrian Potter," said the experienced Dark wizard before launching a powerful cutting spell at the man at his feet.
From his position, Voldemort could see the boy-who-lived's uncle sketch a faint smile before being struck by the spell. He then felt Ghost's magical aura extinguish, indicating that the latter had left this world.
The Dark Lord waited no longer, knowing full well that if he didn't heal himself quickly, he and Bellatrix would join Hadrian Potter in the grave, and apparated, satisfied with his victory.
"You were one of the greatest wizards I've ever faced. I will remember your name forever, Hadrian Potter. But in the end, only I can live forever."
10/31/1994, 19H10, Hogwarts, Scotland:
Daphne Greengrass had always considered that the best decisions were those guided by reason. From a young age, she had forged a mental shell to face the vicissitudes of life with imperturbable calm. It was indeed not easy to survive in Slytherin House while openly opposing Voldemort.
Unfortunately, fate struck a hard blow at the end of her second year at Hogwarts. Her sister's endless coma and Harry's departure, which occurred within two short weeks, left indelible scars on her soul.
For once, she had chosen to follow her heart rather than her reason, and had paid a heavy price. However - and this was what made her particularly furious - if she could relive the past, she would make exactly the same choices.
This certainty plunged her into a gentle madness. She knew that regardless of the suffering this situation caused her, she would throw herself body and soul into the battle if the opportunity arose again.
Everything had changed the day Harry Potter and his uncle crossed the threshold of the family manor. This event marked the beginning of an alliance with the young boy, forcing her to adopt a cordial attitude towards him.
At first, she felt a furious rage. Her parents, who advocated freedom of choice regarding her future husband, had simply left her in the company of this boy.
But over time, she had realised that not only did the adults care little about their possible romantic relationship, but that Harry, despite being the stupidest person she had ever met, was in reality very kind.
The boy had saved her life, as well as that of her sister, on numerous occasions. He had fought a pure-blood heir to defend her family and had been bitten by a thousand-year-old Basilisk to protect her. Moreover, he had spent dozens, if not hundreds of hours exchanging and training with her during the year and a half they had spent together.
These kind gestures couldn't be ignored. She wasn't blind. Although she had never read a romance novel like her mother often did, and had never felt this way before, she knew she had fallen in love with the boy.
Daphne would never admit it out loud, and even less in front of her parents who would spend their time teasing her about it. Instead, she decided to let her actions express her feelings to the boy who had initiated them.
He hadn't rejected her, and had seemed, on the contrary, happy with what had happened. But after that, he left.
Thus ended her second year at Hogwarts, giving way to a dark period that resembled an endless nightmare.
Following the attack of "Ghost" at Azkaban, Dementors had been posted at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, officially to "protect" students from potential murderers on the run. Daphne had a bitter memory of this decision. It was the first major political defeat for her father and Hadrian Potter in the Ministry of Magic for a long time. Indeed, the Minister, Malfoy and his supporters had taken advantage of the lack of staff among Aurors to pass this measure. That day, her father and Lord Potter had a private discussion that lasted for hours, so much so that she worried for their well-being. The story also impacted her mother, whose mental state had remained precarious since her youngest daughter's injury.
It was in this gloomy atmosphere that her third year began. Her sister was still not awake, although physically healthy. Harry had left, and even though they exchanged letters every week, she couldn't help but wonder exactly what he was doing.
To make matters worse, the constant presence of Dementors gnawed at her mental health throughout the year. It was clear she wasn't well.
As if that wasn't enough, her father, Alexander Greengrass, the man she had believed invincible since childhood, was murdered during the summer holidays following her third year.
Her father, Lord Potter, Lady Longbottom, and Lord Black managed to have the Dementors removed from Hogwarts. To celebrate this victory, a party was held at Potter Manor.
Daphne spent the evening in the great hall. Not knowing the place, she was afraid of getting lost. Moreover, she didn't want to leave her mother alone, as she had been abandoned by her father several times during the evening.
Her main goal in accompanying her parents to this party was to see Harry again. Unfortunately, despite staying until the end of the evening, which actually coincided with the discovery of her father's body by a guest, she didn't see him.
That's all she remembered. Her memories of the evening were at best vague, the trauma of seeing her father's body cut to pieces having most likely caused this.
The rest of the holiday was a nightmare. Only her exchanges of letters with the Potter heir kept her sane.
Indeed, the Greengrass manor, once animated by the presence of both Greengrass parents and their children, was reduced to a desolate building where two women, whose minds were consumed by grief and pain, barely survived.
She didn't even had the strength to go to the Quidditch World Cup - a decision that proved to be a wise one given the Death Eaters attack that took place there.
It was on that day that she saw Harry's face again for the first time in over a year. The newspapers praised him for having stood up to five Death Eaters simultaneously, allowing the Aurors to arrest them.
Unfortunately, corruption being what it was, only two of them were sent to Azkaban, the others managing to escape under the pretext of having been controlled through the Imperius Curse. No one ever heard of these men again after the court's decision.
However, rumours circulated that Ghost, the wizard responsible for the Azkaban attack, had made them disappear from the face of the Earth. And although it was just hearsay, Daphne believed it. She wanted to believe that these monsters were suffering some form of justice, however violent it may be.
When her fourth year began, Daphne was at her lowest. In fact, only the presence of her best friend, Tracy Davis, had prevented her from making irreparable mistakes.
Determined not to spend another year moping, she threw herself body and soul into training. New spells, physical training, everything was involved. Some Slytherins, appreciating her work ethic, even invited her to join their revision group, which she accepted.
Her apparent coldness was enough to repel those who wished her harm. Thus, apart from Malfoy's taunts, she had no problems at Hogwarts. But this temporary peace was quickly shattered.
The opening banquet, usually enlivened by the same speeches, took an unexpected turn for the first time in many years. This year, there would be no Quidditch cup. Instead, the Triwizard Tournament would make its grand return.
She then learned that two other magic schools would be joining Hogwarts. The news shattered the tranquillity she had been trying to preserve, as the professors imposed various projects on them to prepare the school for its future visitors.
All this continued even after the arrival of the new students. The relationship with Beauxbatons, the French magic school, was relatively tense. Indeed, many girls were jealous of the newcomers, especially Fleur Delacour, a girl who, according to rumours, was half-Veela. Many boys humiliated themselves by spending their free time trying to court them.
With Durmstrang, it was a little bit more complex. Many Hogwarts students despised the newcomers simply because of their headmaster: the former Death Eater Igor Karkaroff. This forced the Durmstrang students to befriend the Slytherins. The only one who managed to break down this barrier was Viktor Krum, one of the most famous active Quidditch players.
Daphne secretly wondered who would win in a match between him and her... between him and Harry.
Daphne had changed a lot. She had grown up to become one of the tallest girls in her year, approaching 5'7. Her spectacular blond hair had continued to grow, while her features had become slightly more refined. With the arrival of puberty, her body had stretched, allowing her to easily pass for a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl if she ventured into the Muggle world.
Amid the grandiloquent speeches and the arrival of the new students, the sublime artefact that was the Triwizard Cup was presented. Of course, when the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, mentioned the age limit, what was the reaction of all the underage students in the school? To try to circumvent it by any means.
Daphne had to admit that she had to stifle laughter at everyone's various attempts, each more idiotic than the last.
This lasted until October 31st. That day, the draw took place.
Deep down, she didn't care about who was chosen. She vaguely remembered that Viktor Krum had been selected for Durmstrang, and that Fleur Delacour would represent Beauxbatons. In reality, the only one she wanted to hear was the one who was competing for Hogwarts.
"And finally... The representative of Hogwarts is none other than... Cedric Diggory!" exclaimed Dumbledore, calling out the boy. Applause erupted throughout the hall. Even the Slytherins participated, for once.
"With Harry gone, he's clearly the most talented in the whole school," remarked Tracy, nudging her. Daphne nodded subtly, sharing her friend's opinion.
She wasn't disappointed with the choice. Cedric Diggory was one of the few popular boys at school who didn't spend his free time denigrating Slytherins. For that alone, the Hufflepuff had her approval by far.
The choice of the cup made, she lowered her head and focused on her plate again. She had read about the Tournament and knew how dangerous it was. After all, it had been stopped many years ago due to the death of several students. She simply hoped history wouldn't repeat itself.
Suddenly, as the headmaster was about to join the participants in the small room where they had been sent, the cup spat out a fourth piece of paper.
Everyone fell silent immediately, not understanding what was happening. The old man snatched up the paper, unfolded it and read the name written on it.
It was at that precise moment, when Daphne saw the headmaster's eyes widen in surprise, that her blood ran cold. She was sure of the name on the paper. She didn't even need the teacher to call him. But how could that be possible? He hadn't even been at the school for over a year!
"H-Harry Potter! Has anyone seen Harry Potter?" called the man, bewildered. The silence that followed confirmed his suspicions.
"Did anyone in this room add Harry Potter's name to this cup?" he asked, the concern in his voice giving way to incomprehension.
His question was answered with a collective "no", leaving the headmaster and his teachers stunned.
"In that case, we're going to have a problem," he declared, turning back to his teachers. Clutching the paper in his hand, he looked up at the magical artefact.
"That means... the cup has been tampered with."
11/02/1994, 19H01, Hogwarts, Scotland:
"You've got everything, Harry?" Sirius asked again, unable to hide the worry in his eyes.
"Don't worry, I've got my trunk, my stuff, and outside of rereading Uncle Hadrian's books, I'm ready for anything. Everything will be fine!" the boy reassured him.
In the span of a year and a half, Harry had changed a lot. His uncle had forced him to take nutrient potions to strengthen his body and repair the few remaining after-effects of the malnutrition he had suffered at the Dursleys.
These potions, coupled with puberty, an unexpected growth spurt and intense regular training, had worked miracles on his physique and magic.
He now towered over Sirius, who was almost 6 feet tall. His body had become muscular, revealing a certain definition in his arms, chest, and legs.
Far from being a bodybuilder, he had the athletic physique typical of professional Quidditch players. Like Daphne, his features had refined, the innocence of childhood giving way to a confident and serene adolescent face.
His hair had grown, reaching about his shoulders. He had gotten used to tying it up during training. Although a few rebellious strands still fell over his face, he now looked more like Sirius and his uncle.
These two father figures were role models for him. One embodied an ideal of strength and power, a goal to achieve in his adult future. The other symbolised one of the last links to his deceased parents, and ensured that he found other passions in life besides war and combat.
Together, over the past few years, they had shaped the young man he had become today. And they were proud of it.
Standing next to Sirius, a beautiful woman with platinum blonde hair walked towards them. It was Fortuna Moon, a colleague of his uncle, who had become a very close friend of the family since her arrival. It was obvious to all the inhabitants of Potter Manor that the woman had feelings for his uncle. However, he, either as dense as a galvanised steel beam or deliberately ignoring the woman's attention for one reason or another, had never done anything with her.
"Hadrian lost his first wife to dark wizards. She was murdered in their own home. I suppose you can understand why he acts like that," Remus had secretly told him during a late-night revision session.
"I'll explain the situation to your uncle as soon as I get back in touch with him," she said, frowning. Indeed, the man who had taken her under his wing had left for a reconnaissance mission several days ago, and hadn't given any news since.
"I guess you're going to Russia in the next few days," Harry said with a mischievous wink at his potential future aunt.
"Don't get too big for your boots, kid. Just because you've grown doesn't mean I can't kick your butt," she scoffed, crackling her fingertips.
Harry shivered involuntarily at her threat, his body remembering the intense and gruelling training sessions with the power-hungry woman. "Any time, Auntie!" he replied, backing away towards the large front door.
Fortuna shook her head, deciding not to insist. Sirius then stepped forward and took Harry in his arms. "Take care of yourself, pup. We both know that whoever did this probably doesn't mean you any good, so stay on your toes. And keep an eye on poor Daphne too. She must have missed you by now," added his godfather with a mischievous grin and a wink.
Harry blushed and nodded before parting from the man. Once this was done, he lightly compressed his magical core, releasing a trickle of magic to inform the headmaster of his presence.
The headmaster apparently received his message quickly, as the large doors opened instantly.
11/02/1994, 19H04, Hogwarts, Scotland:
It could be safely said that Daphne had been waiting for Harry from the moment the Goblet of Fire had spoken his name. Although a part of her was troubled by the motivations behind this act, a darker, more selfish side of her personality almost felt the need to thank the author of this gesture.
Indeed, she was finally going to see him again. After more than a year of waiting for him, writing him letters, and following his adventures in the press, she was finally going to be face to face with him.
Thus, when the doors of the Great Hall opened again, she immediately understood the reason for this opening. A simple glance at the director's smiling but worried face was enough to give her all the answers she was looking for.
All the occupants of the room turned around, curious to discover the appearance of the cause of Voldemort's downfall, Harry Potter. And what a surprise awaited them!
Where many expected to see a lost and terrified young boy at the idea of being entered against his will in a tournament that put his life at stake, they discovered a man with an athletic physique whose magic radiated from his emerald eyes in waves.
The confidence that emanated from him as he crossed the Great Hall was enough to silence all the students present. He thus managed to reach the teachers' table without encountering the slightest obstacle.
Daphne herself was shocked and couldn't help but blush at the sight of Harry. She wanted him. If he asked her, she would do anything he wanted. And she hated this irresistible attraction that he already exerted on her two years ago.
The last time she had seen him, he was still just a child in the middle of a growth spurt. She sometimes felt his magic, and his eyes shone in a similar way to the present moment when he experienced strong emotions. But what she had seen that day had surprised her more than she wanted to admit.
She easily recognized Hadrian Potter in him. That assurance, that confident smirk, those eyes radiating magic and that musculature worthy of a professional athlete. It was obvious that Harry had undergone intensive training under the man's tutelle, and although she knew that it had been very trying for him, as he often confided in her letters, she had to admit that this training had paid off.
"Good evening, Professor," Harry greeted, arriving in front of the director. His face was impassive, his past resentment towards the man still far from being dissipated.
"Good evening, Harry. I'm sorry you have to make your return under these circumstances, but unfortunately...", he sighed, his voice gradually weakening.
With a fluid gesture, Harry dispelled the professor's worry, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm ready to face anything you could throw at me," he stated confidently. "I'll admit, Professor, that my uncle expected this... unforeseen event. Therefore, especially considering my... particular... training over the past year, I have no apprehension. And besides, I hope you won't repeat the same mistakes regarding the safety of your students, will you?"
Dumbledore nodded, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. "So he was expecting it... Hadrian's arrival really turned everything upside down, didn't it? I wonder what would have happened if he hadn't come to Britain," he murmured, before catching himself.
"Forgive me, Harry. At my age, one tends to wander and digress easily. Rest assured, measures have been taken to prevent the entered students from losing their lives. However, I insist that you remain vigilant. These trials were designed for the best students of each school. They will therefore not be fun," the headmaster emphasised, making it clear to Harry that additional preparations wouldnt be superfluous.
"I'll be careful, Professor. One last question. Do you have any idea who put my name in the cup?"
Harry watched Dumbledore lean forward, signalling that he wanted to keep this conversation confidential. "I have my own idea about that, my boy. I know that given my past actions, it's quite bold of me to ask you, but can you trust me? I would like to talk about it with your uncle first. He has a certain talent for making me see possibilities that I hadn't considered," the man explained in a low voice. Behind him, Harry noticed the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor pointing what looked like a mechanical eye at the duo.
'Another crazy and dangerous Defence Against the Dark Arts professor? That would be really unoriginal,' he thought, before nodding in agreement to the headmaster. "He left a few days ago, but I'll write a letter to Sirius for him to come see you as soon as he returns," Harry informed him, taking out his wand.
As the headmaster raised his eyebrows in surprise, Harry transfigured his current clothes into a Hogwarts robe in the colours of his house. He quickly greeted the rest of the professors and went to sit next to his friends.
"Harry, you've changed so much!" Hermione exclaimed when she saw him arrive. Neville, sitting next to her, offered him a warm smile. "Thank you! And you two lovebirds, how are you?" he asked, winking at them mischievously.
Their faces turned a bright red, like children caught stealing candy. However, neither of them contested the other's words. "We're fine," Neville affirmed, a slight blush remaining on his cheeks. "Malfoy and his cronies are still idiots, but they're bearable. You must have traumatised him enough for him to stop from bothering us," he added, laughing.
"More seriously, Harry, do you know what's going on?" Hermione asked, her gaze fixed on him. "We've done our own investigation, but no student could have put your name in the cup. The enchantments that protect it are far too complex and..."
As Hermione explained her knowledge to an attentive Harry, Dumbledore watched the trio, filled with worry. A question was gnawing at him. Hadrian was often absent, his work demanding it. However, the way Harry had spoken about him gave the impression that he was totally unreachable.
Indeed, to be unreachable in the wizarding world, one had to either be protected by very powerful magical barriers, or... be deceased. The headmaster scratched his beard, worried. He sincerely hoped that reality corresponded to the first option. Mainly because he had grown attached to this man, considering him his closest friend after Minerva.
But also for another reason. If Hadrian had found an opponent more powerful than him... then they were practically doomed. He knew full well that this man, in terms of raw strength, far surpassed all the wizards of the modern era. So if someone else had stood up to him and defeated him, they were going to have to face a much more formidable force than Voldemort.
Daphne, meanwhile, stared at Harry's back, lost in thought. Since his departure, she had been constantly wondering how their reunion would go and imagined all sorts of conversations they could have. But now that he was there, she couldn't bring herself to get up.
Finally, it was Tracy who managed to convince her. "I advise you to go get your man," she teased her. "Otherwise a certain Veela will do it for you."
This sentence made the blonde beauty jump up abruptly. Her gaze fell on Fleur Delacour whose eyes devoured the young man. "They are attracted to magic," her mother had explained to her during a conversation. "So as soon as they find a powerful one, they don't let go."
Determined to act before it was too late, she left her table, defying her Slytherin classmates with her gaze, and crossed the Great Hall to sit down next to Harry.
"What are you doing here, you filthy Slytherin snake-?!", began a Gryffindor boy to her right with a look full of disgust. However, before she could answer, a tall red-haired boy, whom she recognized as Ron, interrupted him.
"Come with me, mate!" he said with a fake smile, dragging the unpleasant teenager in his wake. Daphne completely ignored the red-headed boy's intentions but felt a secret gratitude towards him for his intervention.
"Happy to see you again, Harry. We missed you on the team!" said the boy, shaking his former best friend's hand. "On the team? You joined the Quidditch team?" Harry asked, unable to hide the pride he felt for his former best friend.
"Yeah, Wood made me go through hell last year to prepare me to take his place as keeper. But I'm doing pretty well now," he said with a certain pride.
Harry offered him a smile, delighted that his first friend had managed to find his own path, far from his shadow or that of his brothers. The red-headed boy then left, dragging the angry boy with him.
"Daph-" Harry began before being abruptly interrupted. "Tonight, same place?" she said firmly. Harry, surprised by the strength of her voice, nodded without asking any questions. The young girl immediately left the table, leaving the trio of Gryffondors in incomprehension.
"She isn't doing well, is she?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer perfectly. Neville shook his head while Hermione gave him a sad look.
"Oh well, I'll see about it tonight."
He then returned to his meal, struggling internally to calm his worries about Daphne's state. After all, what better way to clear your head and cheer up than a good meal!