P*T*E*N Page is up and running, slightly ahead of FFN and AO3. This pace will change to significantly ahead of FFN/AO3 once we reach the next hiatus point (at the end of the Durmstrang Arc). Visit P*T*E*N / 521dream if interested. Posted stories include A Flaw in Fate and Sacred Sight (A King's Path Rewrite/Remaster).
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The next chapter will be published . . . yeah I ain't gon lie I dunno when. Enjoy!
Harry Potter: Sacred Sight
The Goblet of Fire
III. The Second Sister
Steam wafted through the crowded platform. Harry watched as it rose through the air, trailing down the length of a gleaming scarlet engine.
Ten fifty-eight. The train's just about to leave.
He looked over his belongings, pausing for a moment as his gaze slid past an empty owl cage. Everything else seemed perfectly fine. His trunk was clamped shut, his Gryffindor robes were already wrapped tightly around him, and his two most cherished belongings - his father's map and cloak - were stashed safely within his robe pockets.
"C'mon, we're heading off now!" a red-haired wizard told him loudly. Harry nodded, hoisting his belongings from the trolley, "Go, go, go!"
He stepped into the nearest carriage, allowing the conductor to shut the door behind him. The room was long and thin, each compartment filled to the brim with younger students Harry didn't recognize.
"Reducio."
He picked up his shrunken trunk and cage, slipping both into the pockets of his robes. His thin fingers pulled the silvery cloak out from another.
"I saw your father, you know," Harry murmured, throwing the cloak over his shoulder, "Ignotus. He and I come from the same place."
Makes sense, seeing as we're family. My great-great-great-great grandfather, if you pile on a dozen more generations.
His pale skin quickly faded from view. Smiling to himself, Harry slipped from one carriage to the next entirely undetected. An overfilled compartment stood before him just a few minutes later. Harry peered through the glass. Nearly every student in his year was packed within, as well as a few from the year below.
Just the usual friendliness. That's all it really takes with these lot.
Nodding to himself, Harry pulled the door open.
"How'd you all manage to fit in here?" he asked as he entered, removing his cloak, "There's got to be more than a dozen of you."
"Harry!" Lavender smiled, "Ooh look, you've gotten taller -"
"And more Hermione-like, too," Ron frowned, "You've got your robes on already."
Harry shrugged.
"Felt like a good idea," he mumbled, waving his wand lazily. The seats on either side of the compartment were pushed apart as the room doubled in size, "I had a feeling it wouldn't be easy, changing on the train."
"Cheers, mate," Dean grinned appreciatively. He and Seamus stretched their legs, making use of the newfound space, "Look, Hermione's already got her knickers in a twist."
Harry turned. Sure enough, Hermione Granger was sitting in the corner with Lisa Turpin, a pensive expression adorning her face. Harry smiled coyly.
"Is that disapproval I see, Hermione?"
The bushy-haired girl rolled her eyes.
"You shouldn't be using magic outside of school," she reminded him, "It's bound to get you in trouble eventually -"
"Like hell it will," Ginny barked from the window. She leaned over, pulling a chocolate frog from the box clenched in Luna Lovegood's palms, "We saw him all cozied up with Fudge at the Quidditch World Cup. The minister's not going to do shit if Harry uses a bit of magic outside of school."
"Hasn't that happened before?" Parvati frowned, "Last year, I mean. With you aunt?"
Harry nodded slowly.
"And the year before that, too," he added thoughtfully, "That one wasn't me, to be fair -"
"Yes, a cake just grew legs and threw itself at a woman's face," Hermione sniffed, "Honestly, I've still no idea how they let you get away with it."
"Fudge's trying to get Harry on his side," Ron yawned, "Chess move, that's all. Toss a pawn to protect the queen."
"I'm a queen?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised.
Ron shrugged.
"Would you prefer a rook?"
"It's not very professional of him, is it?" Hermione frowned, "Fudge, I mean. Surely he can't be showing favoritism like that."
"Eh, it's not exactly favoritism," Seamus frowned, "You usually get off pretty light on underage magic business, so long as there aren't any muggles around -"
"Which isn't the case here, as we addressed earlier."
Seamus trailed off with an unsatisfying shrug.
"You going three for three, then?" Dean snickered, looking over at Harry, "You've used magic out of school before second and third. I say go for year four, too."
"He already has," Hermione reminded him, unimpressed, "Our compartment's twice its normal size."
"Which we're very pleased with, thank you," Lavender assured Harry, "So don't go undoing it all just become Hermione's jealous -"
"Jealous?"
"Mhmm," Lavender nodded. A mischievous grin stretched from cheek to cheek, "It's got to be pretty advanced, hasn't it, altering space like this. N.E.W.T. level at least -"
"Don't let her bait you, Hermione," Lisa warned, sighing as the cogs turned in Hermione's head.
"Too late," Ginny yawned loudly, "Anyway, I agree with Dean. Did you hit a triple?"
"A quadruple," Harry corrected, "There's summer before first year, too."
"Nah," Seamus shook his head, "Doesn't count. You didn't know about magic back then."
"Fine, fine, a triple. And yeah, I did."
"Shocked," Ginny said, sounding anything but, "What'd you do, charm your cousin's balls blue?"
Harry laughed at the disgusted expression Ron wore.
"No. It was at the Quidditch World Cup, actually."
A heavy silence fell over the packed compartment.
"During the aftermath, right?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded.
"I did, too," Ron admitted, "Nothing too bad - just charmed up a bit of light so we could make our way around the forest. It was horrible. Fred and George looked like they wanted to hang themselves."
"Why?" asked Lavender faintly.
"Because of them," Ginny whispered.
"The Death Eaters?"
"The muggles," Harry muttered, falling into a seat between Lavender and Parvati. The entire compartment turned to him, "The Death Eaters had them up in the air, naked and bruised up. They were flying them like kites."
Terrified expressions flooded the compartment.
"The Daily Prophet didn't mention that," said Susan Bones. Beside her, Hannah shivered.
"Quibbler did, though," Harry turned to Luna, "I read the article. Your father did a great job covering everything."
"That's very kind of you," Luna smiled.
"Did any of you fight them?" Ernie Macmillan asked, glancing between Ron and Ginny before fixating on Harry, "Ronald didn't, obviously, and Ginny would've been with him -"
"Of course not, Ernie," Harry shook his head, "We're just kids. We can't match grown men like that."
A few speculative glances lingered on him. Harry could practically feel the uncertainty in their minds, the inkling of reason that whispered that maybe, just maybe, Harry had done something after all . . .
"What else happened?" Lavender asked, turning to Luna, "You did read your father's article, right?"
"Of course I did," Luna seemed half-offended, "One of the Death Eaters cast the Dark Mark in the forest, and they all scattered."
They all nodded slowly, lost in thought. Harry frowned, pulling out a large textbook crammed with notes. He slouched slightly, making room for the oversized book -
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Harry turned. Lavender was staring at him, motioning toward her lap.
"You want to braid my hair, right?"
The girl nodded cheerfully. Harry allowed his body to relax, letting his head fall into her open lap. His fingers pried the book open to page three hundred and ninety-four, resuming where he'd left off.
"Did the Aurors catch anyone?" Harry heard Parvati ask worriedly. The girl's gaze lingered on Harry and Lavender for just a moment.
Luna shook her head.
"There are all sorts of funny rumors going about though," Luna told them, "People not seen since the tournament -"
Harry's stomach churned slightly in his chest.
"Like who?" he asked, forcing himself not to look up from his book. Lavender's soft fingers combed through his hair, braiding it gently.
"Mr. Rowle. A pureblood potioneer."
"What's he look like? Because right now I'm picturing Professor Snape."
A few hollow snickers rang through the compartment.
"Not really much resemblance, actually," Luna said thoughtfully, "Rowle's shorter. Blonde hair, too, and no hooked nose. Broad-shouldered."
That's him. The one I killed.
His eyes slid along the page of his textbook, failing to read any of the words that littered the pages.
He deserved it.
He frowned to himself, flicking idly through the pages of his book as the others progressed the conversation.
"Prefects who gained power?" Lisa Turpin whispered from Lavender's side. She was squinting curiously at the cover of Harry's book, "Why in Merlin's name would you care about that?"
"What's wrong with it?" Lavender asked, her fingers combing through his short hair more forcefully now, "He can read what he wants -"
"It's not that," Lisa rolled her eyes, "Just unorthodox."
Lavender blinked. Harry was positively certain she was doing her best to figure out what the word 'unorthodox' could possibly mean.
"It's fine, Lav," Harry turned the page, "I saw Percy reading it a while back. I was trying to figure out why."
Lisa snorted.
"Well, if you do figure out why, feel free to clue me in."
"I won't forget."
Lisa turned away, joining the main conversation the others engaged in. Harry's fingers pressed irritably against the sides of the book.
I really ought to have transfigured the cover into something less suspicious.
"You know, I heard a rumor from my auntie," he heard Susan telling the others after quite some time, "Auntie Amelia, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement -"
"- yes, we know, go on." Ginny's voice echoed irritably through the compartment. Susan glared at her before continuing.
"She was talking to a coworker about the Dark Mark," she whispered, "Apparently, someone filed a missing wand report in some village up North. The Ministry examined it, obviously - standard procedure and whatnot - and guess what?"
"The last spell it used was the Dark Mark," Lisa murmured. Susan nodded excitedly.
"But there's more to it," she added, nearly jumping in her seat. Everyone leaned closer as Susan glanced conspicuously around the compartment, "The wand they found? It was Neville's!"
Harry was minutely aware of his sudden lack of breathing. He forced his breathing back to normal, guiding his gaze leisurely down the column he was reading.
"Fuck off," Seamus barked from somewhere across the compartment, "Nev? Our Neville?"
Susan nodded.
"It wasn't him," she continued, "The Aurors found him in his tent during the chaos - which reminds me. Harry, Auntie Amelia isn't very happy with you."
Nearly two dozen eyes flicked to him. Harry scoffed.
"Is she ever?"
"She did say you were supposed to stay in your tent, didn't she? In case there was an emergency."
"One of the Aurors might've mentioned it," Harry said indifferently.
Like I would've stayed. She really thinks I would pass up the opportunity to learn more about Tom.
"Good for you, Harry," Ron got up from his seat, pulling out a pack of Exploding Snap, "Honestly, they're barmy if they think you're just going to stay and die."
"Cheers, Ron," Harry grinned, looking up from his book. The red-headed boy smiled cheerfully back.
"There's some logic to it, to be fair," Hermione sniffled, "I'm sure the Aurors know a great deal about self-defense -"
Click.
They all turned as the compartment door clicked open. Standing at the opening were three students, each bedecked in Slytherin robes.
Odd. Crabbe and Goyle usually follow Draco around, not her.
The girl glanced quickly around the expanded room, seemingly unimpressed. Harry watched her all the while. She was very pretty, her dark hair cut into a stylish bob. Her dark brown eyes practically glowed from the sparse sunlight that peaked through the windows.
A sudden frown overtook her features. She quickly turned to face him.
"Draco wishes to speak with you."
The others frowned. Harry fought the urge to grit his teeth.
"And?" he asked uncaringly, "Why does he think I'd care?"
Pansy shrugged.
"I'm not sure," she admitted, "Hell, I asked him the same thing. But he insisted. Said to at least let you know."
"Couldn't do it himself?"
"He's busy."
I'm going to strangle that little git.
"Right. Well, you let him know I'm not interested. As annoying as the younger him used to be, at least that version used to speak for himself."
Pansy's eyes narrowed. Harry watched as she spun around, withdrawing from the compartment with a flourish of her robes. Crabbe and Goyle followed suit.
"What was that about?" Parvati asked him softly. Harry shrugged.
"Dunno," he lied, "Probably just Malfoy being a git again."
The others nodded slowly.
"He usually shows up during the trip to Hogwarts, doesn't he?" said Hermione thoughtfully, "Although I suppose his appearance this time is only by name -"
"Must've called in sick," Seamus sniggered, "Thank Merlin for that."
Harry laughed along with the others, his eyes eventually resting on a particular page in his book. He traced the diagram before him with his thumb.
A rudimentary symmetry ritual. Convenient.
He inspected it carefully. It was simple, much more simple than any of the other rituals the book had shown so far.
It would make a good first. My first real ritual, aside from the malnutrition rubbish from last year. Not that those really count.
He nodded thoughtfully, folding the corner of the page. A sliver of dissatisfaction rang in his skull.
It'd alter my appearance. I would look less like my parents.
Harry's lips thinned.
That's probably for the best.
(-{- S S -}-)
"Come on, out you get!" an excitable Professor Flitwick squeaked as he opened the metal door, "Welcome back to Hogwarts!"
Harry followed the others out of the thestral-drawn carriage, offering the Charms Professor a practiced smile. His eyes quickly jumped to the castle behind him.
Finally.
"Oh, Mr. Potter!"
Harry spun around.
"Sir?"
"The Headmaster would like a word. He's waiting just outside the entrance hall."
A flicker of irritation rang within his skull. Harry begrudgingly smothered it.
"Of course," he nodded, "I'll be there shortly."
He turned around, hurrying to join the others. They hadn't gotten far.
"Private chat with Professor Dumbledore, huh?" Seamus snickered, "You know, you're really not beating the special treatment allegations."
"He probably thinks Harry's done something stupid this summer," Dean said, hopping up the stone steps two at a time, "Wouldn't be far from the mark, to be fair."
Ron shook his head.
"Nah, can't be anything recent," he popped what remained of a chocolate frog into his mouth, "He's had it out for Harry for ages now -"
"No he hasn't," Hermione snapped, "And you know it too, Ronald -"
"You've seen the way Dumbledore looks at him!"
"And how, exactly, does Dumbledore look at him?"
"Like he's Sirius bloody Black!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry fought to keep the smile off his face.
I'm not sure if Padfoot would be insulted or proud.
"That might be the most brain-dead thing you've ever said, Ronniekins," Ginny snapped from behind them. She paused for a moment, "This week, anyway."
"Yeah, yeah, sure -"
"No, Ginny's got a point," Lisa nodded, "It's not like he thinks Harry's a murderer. It's more like . . . you know, the look you give your fat nephew after he's eaten the Christmas leftovers."
"I hate you guys," Harry groaned.
"There had to be someone who disliked you," Ginny pointed out, "At least one person. Otherwise, it's unfair -"
"What about the Slytherins?"
"I said a person. They're not people, Harry."
"Funny," Harry frowned, "Madam Bones exists too, you know."
Ginny scrunched up her face, cupping her hands around her eyes.
"Out of tens of thousands of witches and wizards, two of them don't like me! Oh, woe be me -"
Harry's palm curled into a subtle fist. A series of faint coughs slid from Ginny's mouth..
"To be fair, those two people actually matter," Parvati said thoughtfully, "The Head of the DMLE and the Supreme Mugwump."
Lucky me.
"Ignore them, Harry," Lavender said faintly from his side. She smiled at him, "Anyone who really knows you knows there's nothing to dislike. Maybe Dumbledore will see that himself in just a few minutes."
Harry nodded slowly, nearly choking.
Fat fucking chance.
The stairs vanished, replaced by a smooth marble. Harry's eyes lingered on the tall pillars that lined either side of the entrance hall.
"I should probably find Dumbledore," he said decidedly, waving to the others, "See you soon at the feast."
He turned around, not waiting for the others to say goodbye. A familiar rush of discomfort slipped beneath his skin. Harry forcefully suppressed it.
You're not eleven anymore. Mind your tongue.
A tall man with a long silver beard stood at the side opening of the entrance hall, his head poking out from above the sea of Hogwarts students. Harry stalked toward him.
"Good evening, Headmaster."
"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore nodded kindly, "I see you've grown a great deal in the past few months."
Harry smiled.
The malnutrition potions worked, then.
"I've been eating a great deal," he said, flashing his faux smile before he could stop himself, "You know what they say about growing boys."
"Lots of food, yes," the Headmaster frowned, "Unfortunately, we have little time to discuss feasting when a true feast is just moments away. There are a few matters I wish to address."
"Of course, Sir."
"Firstly, the Quidditch World Cup," Dumbledore began, "I take it you had a good time?"
"I did," Harry nodded, "It was nice, despite Fudge's attempts to change that."
The ends of Dumbledore's aged lips curved upwards.
"Yes, Cornelius does have a habit of rambling, doesn't he?" he smiled momentarily, "But we digress. You are well aware of the events that occurred following the cup, yes?"
"I am."
"And you have heard of the horrors that occurred?" Dumbledore frowned, "The torture of muggles, the few who were trampled to death in the crowds, the man murdered, and the casting of the Dark Mark?"
"Yes, I heard about all of that."
And it wouldn't matter if I hadn't, seeing as I was there.
Though Harry was certain Dumbledore hadn't glimpsed his thoughts, he had a feeling the man knew exactly what he was thinking.
"Is there anything you would like to tell me, Harry? Anything at all?"
Harry frowned.
"Why ask me?" he murmured, "There must be hundreds of students at this school."
"None of them possess the same mixture of restlessness and talent that resides within you."
Harry grit his teeth.
That resides within Tom, you mean.
"You think I was involved in the fights."
"I believe you involved yourself," Dumbledore nodded, "I must ask you again, Harry, for the sake of time - is there anything you wish to tell me?"
Harry thought for a moment, his mind going a mile a minute.
He could know something. I'll be useful.
"I chased the Death Eaters through the forest," he admitted, "They had just done horrible, horrible things -"
"You must not feel the need to explain your actions," Dumbledore said, an uncommon trill of approval in his voice, "Compassion is by no means a vice."
Harry nodded.
"Someone cast the Dark Mark in the sky. They were near where I was, so I ran in their direction. I stumbled across a man holding Neville's wand."
"Did you speak with him?"
"I did. He said his name was Barty Crouch Junior."
Dumbledore's silver eyebrows disappeared behind his long silver hair..
"Junior, you say?" Dumbledore frowned, "Did you report this?"
Harry shook his head.
"I only saw him holding Neville's wand, not ever casting a spell," Harry lied, "There didn't seem to be anything suspicious about that."
A heavy sigh toppled from Dumbledore's lips.
"I forget, in my old age, that younger generations frequent a far different cultural library than their predecessors," he whispered, "Just years ago it was common knowledge that Barty Crouch Jr. died in Azkaban just a year after Voldemort's fall."
Harry blinked in surprise.
"Barty's supposed to be dead?"
Dumbledore nodded.
"I can only wonder whose body we might find, should we dig up the youngest Barty's grave . . ."
"He seemed like he'd been out of Azkaban for a while," Harry offered thoughtfully, "He was . . . erratic, I guess, but he was there. He knew exactly what was going on."
"Alas, another mystery," Dumbledore frowned. Harry watched as he removed his half-moon spectacles, rubbing at his eyes, "I imagine you escaped soon after stumbling upon young Barty?"
Harry nodded.
"Apparated to Godric's Hollow."
"Ah," Dumbledore nodded sagely, "Yes, Filius mentioned your attraction to the place. Your habit of enchanting portkeys had him working overtime last winter - though I don't suppose you'll be needing them anymore."
"You can't apparate in or out of Hogwarts," Harry said blankly.
A youthful twinkle shimmered in the Headmaster's eyes.
"It's just as those muggles say, Harry: if there is a will, there is a way."
The man held his hands out with a smile, his palms facing upwards. Harry's eyes fell upon the beaded wand clenched within the left.
"I visited Ignotus," he said quietly. The Headmaster's smile faded.
"Perhaps the wisest of the three brothers," Dumbledore awarded, tucking the Elder Wand into his pocket. He frowned as Harry tracked the wand's movements, "I imagine you have made great use of his most renowned possession?"
"I have."
"Your father often used the cloak to frequent the kitchen," the Headmaster smiled, "In his later years, he used to bring a rather clever red-headed witch along with him."
Harry curved the ends of lips upward, forcing his eyes to shine with mirth. His perfected smile, borrowed from one Tom Riddle, did not seem to entrance the Headmaster as it did so many others. A sliver of mistrust appeared in Albus Dumbledore's gaze.
Fucking idiot. I keep forgetting.
"Is that all, Sir?" he asked quickly, glancing at the crowd beyond them. It was thinning rapidly. "The Sorting Ceremony should begin soon."
"It will indeed," Dumbledore nodded, "I expect you know the announcement I'll be making soon after?"
Harry frowned. Memories flashed before his eyes, an opened letter resting on his bedside table back at the Leaky Cauldron.
"I have a few theories," he lied carefully, focusing on the spot between Dumbledore's eyes, "But I don't know enough to put my eggs in one basket."
For a moment, the Headmaster seemed unconvinced.
"You are familiar with the Triwizard Tournament?"
"I am," Harry nodded, "I imagine that'll be your announcement?"
"You imagine correctly. After centuries - and ample debate - Hogwarts will once again host the Triwizard Tournament."
Harry smiled, drawing up the intrigue he'd felt upon hearing those words for the first time.
"That'll be quite the spectacle," he grinned eagerly, "I would've never thought the tournament would return, given the death rates."
"Yes, precautions have been taken to ensure nothing of the sort occurs."
"Like what?" Harry asked curiously, "Will there be an age limit?"
The Headmaster's frown deepened.
"No, there will not be," he said quietly, "I am unsure what Minister Fudge is thinking, but what has happened has happened. We can only move forward."
"Right. Is that what you wanted to tell me?"
"Not quite. I wished to ask whether you would be entering."
Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.
"Why - I don't understand why that matters."
"I assure you, I have no interest in meddling with your life, Harry," Dumbledore sighed, "I am merely interested in your safety."
Understanding sparked in Harry's mind like a fire beneath a homely mantle.
"You think Tom's involved."
"Voldemort," the Headmaster corrected with a frown, "Nevertheless, your assessment is correct."
A hot whirl of emotion spun in Harry's chest.
"What do you believe he wants, Sir?" he asked curiously, "I can't imagine my involvement in a school tournament would benefit him much."
"Oh, it could benefit him in a great many ways," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "Though not in ways most might comprehend. Voldemort, I'm afraid, left his sanity behind a long, long time ago."
Harry nodded soothingly.
Sure he did.
"I suppose you're asking me not to enter?"
"I am," the Headmaster agreed, "It'll matter little, should Voldemort intervene, but on the off chance that he fails, your school year will likely be far more relaxing than those that came before."
Harry smiled soothingly.
"I understand," he assured the old man, "I assumed there would be an age line, anyway. It's not much of a letdown."
"Asummed?" Dumbledore frowned.
"A few minutes ago. I did ask you about it, didn't I."
"Yes, of course you did," Dumbledore nodded. Harry's body relaxed, "Run along now, Harry. You and I have quite the feast to attend."