A/N: I don't own Harry Potter. Just having my fun in the playground.

The Forbidden forest

Harry was brought out of his musings when Fang came to a halt. The canine had brought them as far as he knew and was now looking at Harry as if to say "Where to now?"

Looking around, Harry realized they were at the edge of Centaur territory. He sighed and said to Fang, "Thanks for the company. I think you should take Hagrid and head back now." He flicked his head behind him towards the heaving and huffing form of the groundskeeper. For all his many positive traits, stealth wasn't one of them.

Hagrid look up at him, worried. "Are ya' sure about this Harry? Even if Dumbledore says it's okay, I feel bad letting ya go in there on yer own."

"Trust me. There's no way they'll let you in. I'd be lucky to get an audience with the chief without someone trying to take my head off first," Harry muttered, sticking out his hand. "Give me the rucksack and head back."

He waited until Hagrid's unconvinced form, Fang and their lantern faded from view.

"Lumos Tria"

A glowing ball of light emerged and hovered over his head, illuminating the surroundings. Harry followed it up with one of his new favorites. A sensory enhancement charm that almost acted as a sixth sense, especially when there was danger. It didn't do much yet, but he hoped, with practice, it would let him dodge attacks and spells that were normally impossible to avoid.

He set off again, this time at a much brisker pace without Fang and Hagrid slowing him down. Normally, he would be under the invisibility cloak with a discreet light spell. But tonight, he wanted to be found.

His senses were straining to pick up the noises of the forest. Every few seconds, he'd expect to hear the clatter of hooves, but the only sound the forest gave up was that of rustling leaves.

Another hour of hiking through the forest and Harry began to wonder what was going on. Centaurs were diligent, especially with things like patrolling and ensuring no one trespassed. Either there had been a particularly terrible guard on patrol tonight or….Harry came to an abrupt halt.

"Any chance you're going to come out and say hi?" Harry wondered if he looked foolish, talking loudly to no one in the darkness. There was no answer. No sound.

"Guess not. I just want to say I come in peace and I carry a message for your Chief." Still nothing. Oh well. At least no one saw him being stupid. He carried on.

He'd taken three steps when the light fell on the lower body of a horse, complete with hooves and the pale, muscular body of a man. Harry almost swore out loud. Even though part of him had expected someone to be around, the idea this centaur had been just a few feet away from him this whole time was slightly eerie.

Harry didn't recognize the centaur's face but before he could say anything, there was a rustling of bushes, a slight patter of hooves and he felt, more than saw, other centaurs. Damn. Had they always been this stealthy?

"How long have you been following me?"

"Long enough to know you were only guessing right now. You clearly had no idea we were there a few moments ago." Harry was pleased to hear a friendly voice, but was still cursing internally. How had multiple centaurs followed him without him realizing it? He turned around to find the smirking countenance of Zico, trident in hand, his expression a stark contrast to the impassive faces of his tribemates.

Harry matched the smirk. "Nonsense. I was just waiting for you to get over your shyness."

Zico swung the arm not holding the trident in a wide arc and laughed, his dark hair swinging and eyes dancing with mirth. "Ah, you humans are always the same. All false bravado and hollow promises."

That was one thing Harry liked about Zico and his father. They never stood around gazing at the sky and muttering about the stars. They were deep in their own way.

Harry spread out his arms wide, "Well, there you go. This human has come here in all his false bravado hoping to meet the Chief and make him a hollow promise."

Zico walked up to Harry. A few months had done very little to reduce the size difference between them. "Father may not be pleased to see you again. You did promise to never return."

"I did no such thing," Harry shot back hotly. "You guys just warned me not to come back."

"And yet, here you are."

Harry scratched his head. This was not going the way he wanted. "Look. I have a message from Dumbledore to your father. Since I'm the only one who knows how to find Chief Zatarra, here I am."

Zico seemed to process that for a few moments and then shrugged. "Your funeral." His thoughtful took on a slight hint of eagerness. "Did you bring anything interesting?"

Harry could've laughed out loud. For all their aloofness and intelligence, their love for magic and anything magical always seemed to bring the Centaurs out of their shell. He held up the rucksack and grinned, "But, of course. The sooner we get to your father; the sooner I get to show you."

Now even the others were looking at the rucksack curiously. Zico nodded. "Get on. Your lower limbs are useless for speed. Or for much else, as far as I am aware of. What're they good at anyway?" Harry thought about that for a moment before deciding that was the least of his worries. He hopped onto Zico's massive back and held him around the shoulders. He would've liked to have shouted, "Yeehaw" or "Giddy up" just to rile him up, but knew better. Even with friends and family, centaurs held their pride in high regard.

Chief Zatarra continued to stare down imperiously at the figure now bowing to him. He had barely finished when Zatarra spoke, "Are you going to insist on disturbing us, now that you know where we live?"

If Harry was perturbed by his tone or what was being said, he didn't show it. "No such thing, Chief Zatarra. True to my word, I have told no one about this encampment or anything else I've see here. All I've come to do is deliver a message. A request, if you will."

They were standing in the village square –the same place they had fought. Word that the human was back had spread throughout the village and this time, there was a much larger crowd looking on in interest. Harry himself was having a hard time not staring around. He had never really had a chance to observe the village or centaurs in depth. As he watched, the tiniest and cutest little foal came prancing and stood in a corner behind her mother, peeking shyly ever so often. It was an action that reminded him so much of human kids.

Chief Zatarra was speaking again, "Be quick about it then."

Here goes. Harry had been working on this speech for a while now. "Respected Chief Zatarra, I bring a message from-"

"You're not being quick."

Harry tried not to let his annoyance show. Was he being difficult on purpose? Fine then! It was time to play his cards anyway. "Headmaster Dumbledore wanted to convey his thanks for accepting to hear out his message. He asked me to bring you a gift as a token of his respect."

"We do not require gifts from you or anyone else, human." There was a note of disdain in his voice, but the calculating look in his eyes indicated he knew exactly what Harry was up to.

Harry simply nodded. "I'm well aware, Chief Zatarra. But as you can imagine, the Headmaster put a great deal of thought, time, effort and magic in preparing this gift for you. Won't you at least accept it? You can always throw it away if you don't want it."

Zatarra narrowed his eyes and stepped forward. In one fluid motion, his face was in front of Harry's. "I know full well that nothing from the humans is free. The bigger your "gifts", the greater the things you need from us. And when you don't get what you need, you take."

To Harry's surprise, it was Zico who spoke up, "Perhaps we should at least see what it is, Father."

"Quiet Zico!" Zatarra's voice left no room for argument. Harry grit his teeth. Yup, things were not going his way at all. The Chief was spot on of course. He was indeed supposed to exchange the gift in return for being allowed access to Half-peak. Harry cast around, looking for his next angle of approach. There wasn't one to be found. Time for the Hail-Mary, I guess.

Without uttering a word and with slow deliberation, he put his rucksack down and reached into it. He half-expected Zatarra to stop him, but apart from the nervous shuffling of hooves behind him, no one moved. From inside the rucksack, Harry pulled out a huge glass sphere. Inside it was a burning log, but a log like no other. It was not wood, but a material achieved with a great deal of difficulty in alchemy. The fire itself was bright red and dancing with a life of its own. "Ever-lasting fire," Harry said simply, but it was obvious the interest had perked up. He could see craning necks and hear murmurs.

Harry's eyes locked onto Zatarra's, one of the few who still looked unimpressed. "You are right. I was sent here to request a favor from you in return for this gift. But-" He added quickly at the angry noises from some, "I would like to believe I understand centaurs a little better than that."

Zatarra's voice was dangerously low now, "Do you now?" Behind him, Zico shifted uncomfortably. "And what, pray tell, do you know about us?"

"The fire is a good gift and will make your lives easier, no doubt. But I know how seriously you take the safety of your tribe. There is no way you will risk dealing with humans for anything less."

"If you understand, then leave," Zatarra's voice was as brusque as ever. "Tell your headmaster he has nothing of worth to offer us."

Harry's smile still hadn't left his face. "Maybe he doesn't. What if I told you I do?"

There was definitely a note of derision this time- "And what can you do?"

Harry picked his next few words very carefully. "You're losing territory to the acromantulas, aren't you?"

The effect was instantaneous. Angry shouts and yells rent the air. "Off with his head!" someone shouted. Zatarra looked incensed, if only for a moment. Zico was just shaking his head now.

"Look, I know you are proud warriors. But Aragog and his ilk reproduce at a nightmarish rate. It's a battle of attrition and Aragog simply has more bodies than you." He had finally gone and done it. Even if he had wanted to, Harry doubted he could've reacted in time. Zatarra caught him by the scruff of his neck and raised him into the air, flaming dark coals still trying to bore holes into the icy-cold emeralds.

"You know its name? What would a human foal like you understand about why we fight, how much we've lost or-"

"It makes no difference," Harry interrupted him, still dangling from his arms, legs a few feet from the ground. The sight would've been almost comical if they hadn't been having a serious conversation. Harry continued, "What matters is whether you can protect your people."

At this, Zatarra roared, "WHAT DO YOU THINK I'VE BEEN TRYING TO DO, BOY?"

Harry almost let himself grin in triumph. The next line should do it. He spoke every word with quiet deliberation. "What if I told you I can get you two basilisk eyes? They're a little damaged but I'm sure they'll serve your purpose quite well."

Headmaster's office, Hogwarts

It was nearing the break of dawn when Harry finally reached the Headmaster's office, only to find the man about to dive into his pensieve. Dumbledore looked up when Harry entered. "How was your night, Harry?"

"Sleepless, but fruitful."

"And?"

"They've agreed to meet a delegation at Half-peak to explain the rules of their territory, at our convenience. And they also stressed that human presence would not be tolerated any longer than necessary."

Dumbledore allowed himself a look of satisfaction. "Excellent work, Harry. Again, something only you could've accomplished. Looks like all those nights of breaking curfew is finally paying dividends."

"Does this mean I don't have to worry about detention for being out at night?"

Dumbledore chuckled, "Only if you don't get caught. Now I'm very sorry to do this Harry, but I was just about to indulge in some reminiscing when you arrived. Would you mind waiting while I finish?"

Harry just shook his head and walked towards the magnificent phoenix in the corner, who had been watching the proceedings alertly. He reached out to stroke her golden plumage and was pleased when he felt her lightly nuzzle back. He had had an exhausting night, but the warmth from Fawkes seemed to soothe his body and mind, as always. Dumbledore smiled at them, almost wistfully, Harry thought, before diving into the pensieve.

A grating, albeit familiar voice, cut across the room. "Well well. Wonder boy managed to enter a Centaur hamlet and return alive. Can't remember the last time that happened. I guess the horse-legged shit-kickers didn't feel like making a meal out of you, eh dingleberry?"

Harry could've sworn Fawkes did something that looked a lot like rolling her eyes. He turned around and made his way to the glass cabinet in the headmaster's office. The sword of Gryffindor gleamed in the back, but his attention was directed elsewhere.

"Bee in your bonnet, Hat?" Harry couldn't help chuckle at himself.

"Yes, very clever," The Sorting Hat replied in a bored tone, the folds had crinkled to form two eyes and a wide brim of a mouth. "especially for an advanced species of ape that shot out of his mommy's crotch only fifteen years ago."

"I'm fourteen."

"Whatever."

"And one of those apes created you."

"Four."

"Whatever."

That had the desired effect of setting off the Sorting Hat into a small tirade of uniquely enjoyable, albeit disturbing, insults. Harry always liked these little interactions with the hat, especially with how little regard it seemed to give people or its surroundings. The Hat was more than a thousand years old and seemed to know a great deal about the world, despite always being stuck in Dumbledore's office. But that had only served to make it restless and grumpy. It had been a long time dream of his to walk around castle wearing the hat, while it roasted everyone from atop his head.

The Hat itself had been a teacher over five centuries ago, having finally stopped teaching after the "Mind Arts" classes were removed from Hogwarts curriculum. That hadn't, however, stopped the hat from teaching Harry Occlumency and a small amount of Leglimency, at Dumbledore's behest. Harry briefly wondered if he was so easy-going these days because of the relentless barrage of insults he had had to endure from the Hat last year.

"….hogging all the excitement, you virginal prick," the Hat finished.

"I'm sorry. Exactly how many times a day does a raggedy hat get laid?" He forestalled the Hat before it could interrupt, "Besides, I seem to remember a fight between Fawkes, me, you and the mother of all snakes not that long ago."

The Hat snorted. "Yes, the most excitement I've had in a millennia and I spent most of it on the floor watching a pipsqueak and an overgrown fire chicken take it to the enemy." Fawkes gave a squawk of protest from her corner. The Sorting Hat looked at Harry contemplatively before continuing, "The decrepit fossil trusts you, you know. Not exactly something he's good at."

It took Harry a minute to realize it was talking about Dumbledore. That was a new one. "So?"

"SO? Use it to get me out of here you worthless, ungrateful pillock."

Harry couldn't help the evil grin that spread on his face. "But Hat," Harry's voice deliberately took on a worried tone. "If you're not here, who would do the incredibly important and inexorably vital job of composing next year's song?"

Yeah, he knew a few of the Hat's sensitive points too. The Hat actually took a deep breath this time and Harry was grateful to be saved from the incoming verbal assault when Dumbledore emerged from the pensieve, looking…pensive.

Harry quickly whispered from the corner of his mouth, "I'll see what I can do," and stepped towards Dumbledore, looking at him questioningly. Dumbledore just shook his head, indicating the memory had nothing to do with him, and waved him towards a chair, before taking his place behind the desk himself.

Harry sat and waited patiently, for his Headmaster to organize his thoughts. "So Harry, Centaurs," he said finally, pulling himself out of his reverie. "You'll have to guide the delegation to Half-peak where they can sort out the details and escort them back safely. Sometime next month, I should think?"

Harry simply nodded. He wouldn't have to do much except take the people to the right place and bring the basilisk eyes with him. "Let me know a day or so beforehand, Professor."

"Of course. Now then, I know you have your second round of dueling today and I won't keep you from getting rest any longer. I just wanted to tell you…" he paused, seemingly unsure, "…to stop holding back Harry. Let's just say… the legend you build around your name cannot be big enough."

Harry wasn't really sure what to say. These instructions seemed so vague, a rare occurrence from him these days. Harry just nodded again, which seemed to satisfy Dumbledore.

"To bed then, Harry. Off you trot."

Hogwarts grounds

As Harry slept off his night's exertions in the Gryffindor tower, a slight crowd had gathered on the opposite bank of the massive lake. This particular area was almost never approached by any of the students owing to its close proximity with the Forbidden forest. Today however, it was a hubbub of activity. A massive workforce of wizards and elves, led by goblins had arrived to construct two gigantic towers that would rival the Hogwarts towers, the living quarters for the visiting schools.

There was something to be said about goblin workmanship. Strong and true. And the goblins themselves could be trusted to carry themselves professionally as long as they got their gold. This current undertaking however had many of the students, and the few reporters that seemed to be always around these days, gawking in awe at their speed. Holes were being dug, support beams being raised, foundations being laid and it was all happening with such competence and expertise.

One of the reporters made her way nervously to the goblin who was shouting out orders. "E-Excuse me?"

"What?" the goblin shot back, without looking at her.

"Can you really finish building the entire thing in four days before the schools arrive?"

The goblin never turned. "We have to finish this in two. There's still the Dueling arena to build."

Hogwarts library

Daphne looked up from the book she was perusing with an annoyed expression. "If you don't want to be here, go away."

Tracy just smirked at her before continuing to twirl around in the restricted section of the library. "Don't you think we've been here long enough? Besides, I doubt you'll find any sign of it here. That spell didn't look like it was something found in a library, even Hogwarts."

"But it has to be. Potter must have learned it from somewhere."

Daphne had spent the better part of the day trying to identify the spell she had seen Potter use yesterday. Her own duel had been a jarring awakening. She had not expected her opponent to give her that much trouble or to be pushed so hard, even if he was older. But the victory had brought her a small amount of pride in the knowledge that she could hold her own, even against the best of Hogwarts. That notion had come to an abrupt end. She watched Harry Potter stand in the middle of the dueling ring, unfazed, as he systematically took apart Bletchly, someone known for his duelling prowess. She knew enough about duelling to know he had barely been trying until the end. And then, there was that darn final spell…

"You're biting your lips again Daphne," Tracy observed cheerfully. "Worried about the second round of qualifying today?"

"A little," Daphne said, making sure no one else could hear her. "There are a few opponents who could give me trouble."

"Is that why you're here? Because you think Potter might be one of them?"

Daphne considered that seriously. She would certainly be on guard against him, but was she afraid to face him? Of course not. When she was done with him, he'll just be another notch on the belt. But… he had been holding back… and that bothered her. "I'm not concerned about Potter," she replied, eyes as cold as ever.

"Come on then," Tracy said, "We have an hour before it begins. I want a shower and some food first."

Daphne forced down a sigh as she looked around at the large stack of books she'd gone through, proof of a fruitless morning. "Fine."

The Great Hall

It was a tousle-haired, sleepy-eyed Harry that stood next to Ron and Hermione, having hurriedly been woken up for the second round of Dueling qualifiers. At least the noise and bustle of the Great Hall was having a rousing effect. They had just witnessed Miles Bletchley wiping out Roger Davies and Moody was resetting the dueling platform for the next match. No one really knew who they were up against until McGonagall called out the names, which just seemed to add to everybody's nerves.

The modifications to the Great Hall had been completed overnight and Harry was only now getting a good look at it. The Hall had been extended to more than twice the size. Harry knew full well there was no charm or enchantment in the world that could keep the room at this size for nearly a year. It had to be a complex combination of runes and wards, possibly with goblin construction techniques thrown in, he surmised.

On either ends of the Hall, a platform had been raised with ornate tables and comfy chairs. A red tape and a few stairs separated both platforms from the rest of the hall. The prefects had already made it clear this area was the visitor's gallery and that students were not to enter unless specifically required. The center of the Hall had a lavish feel to it now with the extended space and white marble flooring. Although capable of hold six or seven House-sized tables, they had now been cleared for the penultimate day of dueling qualification. This meant, although the number of people were the same, the Hall felt much roomier and Harry had been able to find his own pocket of privacy in a corner with Ron and Hermione.

He had gotten bored after the first few matches, his mind still half asleep. There hadn't really been any duels worthy of remembering and Harry was beginning to wonder if Hogwarts actually stood a chance against the likes of Durmstrang. He was brought out of his reverie with a jerk.

Moody had banged his cane and roared, "NEXT MATCH."

Swiftly, McGonagall stood up from her seat between Snape and Flitwick, and read from the parchment in her hand. "Harry Potter vs Cedric Diggory"

Since the crowd consisted mainly of students, a cheer went up immediately. Both participants had done well yesterday and the history between them on the Quidditch pitch was well known. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Cedric make his way to the platform before he himself was enveloped by the Weasley twins with a chorus of "Get him!"

As he made his way onto the platform, Cedric shot him a friendly smile. Harry decided he had no choice but to return it. Damn Hufflepuff. Why do they have to be so nice even in the middle of a duel?

They bowed to each other when ordered, eyes connected. Harry was sure there were plenty of people still left here who didn't believe he could hold his own in a duel against a seventh-year. But Cedric wasn't one of them. He saw nothing but seriousness and commitment in the Hufflepuff's eyes. Harry clutched his wand a little tighter. This might be a memorable day after all.

A short blast of the whistle and the duel was on. "Stupefy….Incarcerous" Cedric yelled. A lot happened very quickly. Cedric had verbally fired a stunner, slipped a silent shield-breaker and followed it up with ropes. It was a strong opening combination meant to force the opponent to shield, break the shield and tie up the opponent with a wide-range rope spell that cannot be dodged.

Harry, however, hadn't shielded. Deciding to dig a little deeper into his bag of tricks today, he followed the flight path of the stunner. As it neared him, put a small surge of magic into his wand, caught the stunner by the tip of his wand and flicked it away. A parry. It couldn't protect against Unforgivables and many other spells, but it was still a rare duelling skill and hard to pull off in the heat of battle. Harry had no time to enjoy it though, as he quickly turned his torso to let the shield-breaker miss and saw the ropes hurtling towards him, giving him nowhere to dodge.

"Ventus dua. Rictumsempra."

The incoming ropes were forced back towards Cedric due to the wind spell. Cedric, who was about to cast his next spell, barely had enough time to wave his wand at the ropes, transfiguring it into a small boar, before jumping out of the way of the bludgeoner. The Rictumsempra spell, or bludgeoner, as it was fondly called, varied in effect, but was essentially a force of magic meant to smash into you like a bludger. It's power and area of effect were decided by the wizard casting the spell. Harry hadn't really put his all into the bludgeoner. But he hadn't held back either. So when Cedric dodged, it crashed into the wards with an almighty impact causing the dome to shudder. There were some gasps and concerned looks from the crowd outside.

Cedric's eyes widened as he realized what would have happened if he had taken the spell. It certainly wouldn't have killed him, but no one likes broken bones and crushed muscles. He turned just in time to see Harry slash his wand towards the small boar that was charging towards him. "Lacero."

The cutting curse sliced the boar right in half, before continuing towards Cedric. Or rather, where he had been. Cedric was already on his feet casting spells in rapid succession. He started with a wave of arrows, followed by "Incarcerous. Avis."

With one final wave of his wand, he bellowed, "TRANSFIGURO RAPIFORS"

Harry had to admit, he had no idea what the spell did. Although, that question was answered immediately. The conjured arrows, ropes and birds lost their form, turned liquid, solid again, before reforming into the shape of a huge bull, complete with a powerful neck and sharp, pointed horns. It charged, hooves rumbling and causing the ground to vibrate a little. There were yells of surprise from the crowd.

Almost as if on auto-pilot, Harry spun his wand to point directly at it. There was a note of venom in his voice, "Bombarda"

The bull's legs snapped cleanly in half due to the explosion sending it tumbling to the floor. But with a small set of complex wand movements, Cedric reattached the leg. The bull was back on its feet and charging in almost no time. It had, however, given Harry just enough time to access the situation.

Cedric was clearly planning to use his superior skill in transfiguration to his advantage. Create something that charges at your opponent and distract them, while you land the killing blow from afar. It was a nice strategy and Cedric certainly had the skill for it. Harry's options were to somehow overpower Cedric and his conjuration or drag this out and hope for an advantage in a battle of attrition. But then again, as the twins had said, this was a matter of pride.

In a matter of seconds, Harry sent three different explosion curses towards the rampaging bull, feeling the huge draw on his magic, before sending a bludgeoner straight at Cedric. That Cedric's timely shield managed to hold against the bludgeoner was a feat in itself. It battered the shield, seemingly with a will of its own, wanting nothing to do but destroy what stood in its way. Cedric was thrown backwards on the platform, almost falling off. There were anxious shouts from the Hufflepuffs in the audience as he scampered back to his feet, unsteadily.

Harry had turned his attention to the bull. Explosion curses weren't allowed against humans in a duel, but everything else was fair game. His curses had not only left the bull with half its skull and most of its hind parts missing, but they had also dug deep gouges on the platform. There were huge chunks of rock, marble and debris covering most of the fighting area now. The bull was reforming itself again, but much slower now that Cedric wasn't helping it. It really was a good spell, Harry thought. Probably one of those ancient family spells you hear about.

It was only fair after all, he told himself, that he showed respect to Cedric's fighting spirit by casting the best transfiguration spell he knew. Pointing towards the debris, he roared, "TRANSFIGURO LAPIS CUSTOS"

For the second day in a row, Minerva McGonagall was thrown for a loop. From behind her in the visitor's gallery, she heard the faint noises of photographs being clicked. She had certainly noticed Harry's skill grow in transfiguration last year, but she had no idea he was capable of pulling off a spell that would stump some of her best seventh-years. Like the rest of the hall, she watched in awe as rocks and debris combined to form a massive boulder, as well as smaller rocks form barely discernable hands and feet. They came to hover around the boulder as if connected to it by air. And finally, the biggest piece of marble floated to the top and formed a crude face.

The stone Golem stood at a towering 15 feet, larger than any known troll and certainly far stronger. With thundering steps that shook the entire hall, it charged towards the bull that had almost finished reforming, and with one huge swing of its mighty fist, crushed the bull right into the ground. When the fist lifted, there was nothing left but a large hole in the ground.

Harry had already turned his attention back to Cedric who was firing hexes, jinxes and anything else his tired body would allow him, desperation evident. Harry understood. As short as this match had been, it had drained him considerably more than he had expected. It was testament to Cedric's skill that he was still fighting. There was nothing left to do now but move in for the kill. A simple shield jinx took care of the incoming spells and Harry started with a barrage that was all too familiar to him. Bludgeoner, cutting curse, bludgeoner. The idea was that shielding against his bludgeoner was impossibly hard while the wide range of the cutting curse almost always got some part of the body even if the opponent tried to dodge. This, with a 10-ton behemoth bearing down on you, was the stuff of nightmares.

Cedric fought bravely, trying everything he knew on the stone golem, all the while throwing himself out of the way of the incoming spells. He had already been cut deeply near his shoulder and thigh, as well as numerous smaller cuts that just added to the blood loss. One of the bludgeoners had only nicked him, but had still sent him flying sideways. But what really cost Cedic was that he could do nothing to the great mass of stone that kept charging towards him. Even his exploding curse barely took a few chunks out of the Golem, who finally caught up and pinned him down, preventing any kind of movement. It was almost a gentle action for something so big and clumsy.

There was a short blast of the whistle as Moody ended the match.

Harry had to admit, given the number of people in the Hall, this was one of the loudest cheers he had heard. As he moved towards Cedric, he had the Golem step back and released the magic holding it together. Cedric got to his feet shakily, the toll of the match clearly showing. He was bleeding all over and the exhaustion was apparent on his face. Harry helped him up as best as he could. The cheers seemed to get louder.

"You gonna be alright?" he asked in a light voice.

"Blimey Harry! Those bludgeoners of yours are something else. I mean, your Golem got me and all, but…" Cedric trailed of, looking at Harry unsurely to see if he was making sense.

Harry just threw his uninjured shoulder over his. "Come on. To the infirmary with you, I think."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay and celebrate?"

Harry grinned at him, "Nah, I'll celebrate after beating you in Quidditch."

People pounded their backs with gusto as they stepped off the platform and made towards the infirmary. Harry couldn't even make out who was shouting what in the blur of faces. They were cheered, applauded, appreciated and back-slapped the entire way out.

Daphne Greengrass barely registered the cacophony of noise around her, mind still on what she had witnessed. Yes, it had been quite the exhibition of skill. Barely a minute in and she had found herself respecting both the combatants for their ability. Yes, the match had had her sitting on the edge of her seat. And yes, there was no denying now that Harry Potter was not someone to be taken lightly. But there was something that bothered her deeply.

The first lesson any duelist is taught is the importance of movement. Attack, defense, support…whatever your role, movement was always key. The theory was that the harder the fight, the more you moved. Harry Potter had never moved from his spot the entire duel. He had shielded, parried and even dodged a spell by moving his upper body, but his feet had never moved. It was a statement. A silent statement to all the expert duelists in the room that no one was good enough to fight him one-on-one.

Her eyes narrowed and she didn't even notice herself beginning to bite her lip. She was a proud individual in her own right. There was a reason why she was feared and respected even in Slytherin, despite not having any purist ideals. The competitive fire in her to prove herself was burning brighter than ever now. What she wouldn't give to take on Potter…

The Great Hall

Wednesday morning saw Harry Potter walk into the Great Hall in the early hours of the morning. He had started his morning early, finished his jog, showered and was looking forward to a heavy breakfast. The first thing that caught his eye was the layout. Where there had been a dueling platform and a lot of empty space last night, there now stood six long, ornate tables. The seats next to them were just as opulent. What really interested Harry was the color and insignia on the tables. The first two were dyed red, containing the Durmstrang symbol, the two headed eagle. The middle two were as white as the marble of the floor, bearing the Hogwarts coat of arms and Beauxbatons had blue tables with their insignia.

Wondering how sharing a table with the other houses during a meal was going to be, Harry made his way to an empty seat nearby. He had a brief vision of Ron and Malfoy sitting next to each other, trying to eat, and let out a guffaw. The Hall was sparsely populated with no more than a few students from each house. The Slytherins were still sitting all by themselves in one of the Durmstrang tables. Harry supposed the other schools had to arrive first for the fireworks to start flying.

Right now though, he had bigger concerns. He loaded up his plate with sausages, eggs, hash browns, beans, bacon, toast and also poured himself a goblet of juice. Harry set them all down on the table, pulled out his wand and cast a quick diagnostic charm for poisons and potions. He already knew Voldemort had sent a Death Eater after him and he wasn't planning on taking any more chances than necessary. The wand glowed green, indicating the food was safe and Harry dove in.

Students started streaming in steadily as Harry ate, unconcerned. A few people came over to congratulate him on his dueling performance, but he was left alone for the most part. He was helping himself to seconds, when Ron came stalking into the Hall, followed by a clearly irate Hermione. Wondering what fresh drama his two best friends were planning to visit on him today, Harry raised his eyebrow enquiringly at Hermione who sat next to him. She just shook her head, indicating she wasn't in the mood to talk about it. Ron dropped into the opposite seat, a slight scowl on his face.

Harry was about to ask Ron when Owl post arrived and immediately, he noticed the white of Hedwig making her way towards him. His heart skipped a beat. He had sent Hedwig to France and now, he could see a letter around her leg.

Avoiding the questioning look from Hermione, he untied the letter, fed Hedwig some bacon and said, "Go rest. You've had some long trips back-to-back. I'll come find you if I need you." She nipped his fingers affectionately before flying away, clearly too tired to do anything else.

Harry opened the letter and started to read, his heart beating faster than normal. It said-

"Dear Harry,

I was really glad to hear from you. Fleur said you were only replying to be polite, but I wanted to reply since your owl is going back to you anyway.

Both of us have managed to qualify for the dueling tournament, an accomplishment for normal fourth-year students such as ourselves. I have no doubt you will be able to qualify easily if you tried. Are you planning to participate?

Even though your last letter was short, it was obvious that you were very excited about going to Hogwarts. I can't wait to see it too. I have read so much about it and its history as well. Truly, this year has been like a fairy tale so far.

Since we will be meeting soon, I will stop here. Try not to get hurt saving any more damsels in distress.

-Jasmin

P.S. Fleur said that if I write to you, I was to tell you that she did not appreciate being compared to a harpy. She had a few choice words to say about you in French, but I will not repeat them.

Without realizing, as he had read, a smile wide enough to hurt his face had spread. He couldn't quite place it yet, but somehow these interactions filled him with warmth and happiness, almost like eating chocolate after fending off a hundred dementors. He reread the letter again, taking in every word. So absorbed was he, he didn't even notice Ginny walk up or say hi. So she came up behind him and peeked.

"Ginny" he hissed. "That's rude."

She raised her hands, "You seemed so engrossed in it. I couldn't contain my curiosity."

Harry folded the letter and stuffed it deep into his robes, then patted to make sure it wouldn't crease. Then, without a word, he went back to his plate of food, mind still on the parchment in his pocket.

Next to him, Ginny bit her lips before asking nervously, "Harry…who is Jasmin?"

Sheesh. How did she see the name that quickly? "Just a friend I made during the World cup, not that it's any of your business," he added with a slight edge in his voice. He didn't want her to feel like he was pushing her away as a friend, but she needed to understand he valued his privacy.

"Waiiit a minute," Ron looked up from his plate, a dawning expression on his face. "It's one of those girls you rescued, isn't it? Why is she writing to you?"

"Because she has few friends and I think she has come to trust me a little bit."

Ron sniggered and asked, "Does she not have friends because she looks like a troll? Go on, tell me. I won't take the mickey outta you." Hermione snorted.

It was then that Harry realized he had only described his side of the adventures to Ron and Hermione. He had never gotten around to explaining what their story was, why they had been kidnapped or the fact that they were veela. Somehow, he had never gotten around to describing their looks. "Tell you what, Ron. I'll introduce you to her in a couple of days and you be the judge."

Ron nodded happily and went back to his toast. Ginny too was helping herself, determinedly avoiding his eyes. He finished his breakfast quickly, waved to Hermione and was about to head upstairs when he heard a voice calling out, "Potter."

Harry almost groaned. When someone called out his surname with no prefixes or title, it almost always meant he was in trouble. But when he turned around, he was surprised to see it was one of his classmates from Slytherin he had never spoken to. "Hello. It's Daphne, isn't it?"

Her icy blue eyes narrowed, though not maliciously like Malfoy's. Hers had a more audacious look to it, adding to the haughtiness of her attractive face. "I didn't realize we were on first name basis."

There were any number of retorts that came to his mind, some polite, some cheeky and even some that would have had the Sorting Hat nodding in approval. But watching her face, the way she held herself and everything he knew about her, he simply replied, "Apologies, Miss Greengrass. I didn't mean to be presumptive. I'll be taking my leave now." He made to leave and just as Daphne opened her mouth, he added, "And if you ever want to have a real conversation with me, the only way you're doing it is without your mask." Harry climbed the stairs and left without a backwards glance, leaving behind a mostly livid, slightly shocked Daphne Greengrass.

A/N: I don't even know how many people read fanfics or remember Harry Potter anymore. I'm just writing this story for personal satisfaction now. Stay safe.