A/N: This past week has proven just how fragile the FFN site can be. If the site ever goes down for good, remember that you can always find this story under the same title and username over at Archive Of Our Own.
Harry was not too eager to return to Hogwarts once spring break was over. He had only two months left until the Third Task, and while the maze itself didn't worry him, the behind-the-scenes plot surrounding it most certainly did. Neville seemed determined to believe the Tournament was legitimate, and if someone was clearing a path to the Cup for him, he might wind up in mortal danger before Harry could do a thing to stop him.
All there was to do was prepare. He was reading far ahead on magical creatures, making sure he was fully prepared for any and all beasts he might face in the maze. He didn't know what other horrors the judges had prepared for him that he simply hadn't seen in his last timeline, since the impostor Moody had been clearing the way for him. Best not to leave a single stone unturned.
Harry headed downstairs for breakfast on the morning the train was set to depart. He found his father in the kitchen, engaged in low conversation with an unexpected guest. "Oh, Harry, you're up early," said James. "You remember Dale Greengrass? I believe his daughter Daphne is in your year."
"That's right," said Harry. "How do you do, sir?"
"Good to see you again, Harry!" Dale greeted him with an enthusiastic handshake. "Splendid work in the Triwizard Tournament so far. I hope you're training hard to win the grand prize?"
"I'm more focused on surviving the final task, but I appreciate it," said Harry diplomatically.
"Don't mind us, son; we're just wrapping up some political business," said James. Harry set about preparing breakfast around the kitchen as he casually eavesdropped on the two men's conversation.
"Lords Nott and Selwyn are going to raise the biggest fuss, of course," Dale was saying. "They've owned house-elves for centuries and won't like this 'radical' change to tradition. And the other pure-blood seats will follow suit."
"Well, Dumbledore will no doubt be able to sway the Light faction to our side," said James. "And I've asked Sirius to give testimony on Kreacher, which might go a long way towards convincing some of the more traditionalist factions."
"I'm more concerned about how the moderates will lean," Dale muttered. "I think I can convince Patil and most of the Muggle-borns to join us, but swaying the minds of even half-bloods will be difficult."
"Are you actually introducing house-elf legislation in the Wizengamot?" Harry asked excitedly, unable to keep out of the conversation.
"We're working on it," James sighed. "After what happened to Slughorn, we really want to get a hold of Crouch Senior to see if he knows anything. The only way to do that is to update the laws and force Winky to cooperate."
"But it won't just be about compelling her to speak, right?" Harry pressed. "You'll push for them to earn rights and not be forced into slavery?"
"That will take longer than a single vote to achieve, I'm afraid," James grimaced. "The first step is allowing house-elves to act against their masters' wishes if they are abused, or given orders that are illegal or immoral. That will open many people's eyes to how bad the elves actually have it, something the pure-blood families don't want to happen."
"Your father's right, Harry," said Dale sympathetically. "Real change takes time. Just because progress is slow doesn't mean it isn't worth taking the first baby steps."
Hermione and Damian won't like hearing that, Harry thought to himself. But he wouldn't argue the point. Even if the road to freedom was long, any step in the right direction was worth pursuing.
Dahlia woke up late as usual, protesting as her mother shooed her out the door before she could enjoy a full breakfast. Soon they were back on the Hogwarts Express, whisking them back north to finish the school year. Harry found Luna Lovegood in an empty compartment and joined her, noticing that she seemed more pale and sickly-looking than usual.
"Alright there, Luna?" he asked. "Have a nice holiday?"
"I stayed in my room most of the week," Luna sighed miserably. "Daddy was quite concerned. But he doesn't understand the danger that's out there."
"Luna, you can't take everything Trelawney says seriously," Harry chastised her lightly. "She's always forecasting bad things happening, and most of them don't come true."
"Didn't you see what happened to Horace Slughorn, Harry?" Luna demanded. "Things aren't right at Hogwarts this year, and I intend to tread carefully."
"That's...different," Harry said slowly. "Slughorn was targeted for a reason. What reason would anyone have to target you, or Trelawney for that reason?"
"I don't make the rules, Harry," Luna shrugged. "I just follow the signs as best I can."
"Well, follow your intuition, I suppose," Harry muttered. Far be it from him to discourage her talents of foresight, even though he seriously doubted she was the one in danger. It was yet another reason to hope the impostor was caught soon, just for the peace of mind it would bring.
It seemed that Luna was not the only paranoid person in the castle at the moment. Many other students were more skittish than usual as term resumed, traveling in tight-knit packs in the halls and avoiding Harry like the plague. After what happened to Skeeter and Slughorn, there was a pervading sense of unease in the castle, one that left Harry feeling on-edge. We can never just have a normal year at Hogwarts, can we? he lamented.
Harry used to take comfort in the daily rigors of Hogwarts curriculum, but right now, it felt more like a giant waste of time. Writing pointless essays, completing the same homework assignments he'd already done in another timeline...it was just time-consuming. He hadn't appreciated what a valuable commodity time was until he didn't have enough of it! He wished he could spend his time on more fruitful activities, like researching for the Third Task or hunting Horcruxes with Saul Croaker. Being trapped in a fourteen-year-old's body was starting to wear on him mentally.
Quidditch practices were his only real reprieve during the week, and even that was feeling more like a chore than usual. Angelina Johnson was transforming into a taskmaster like Oliver Wood had once been, desperate for a victory against Krum's team despite the odds against them. She pushed the team extra hard during scrimmages, to the point that even Katie (the most athletic among the group) was completely exhausted by the end of each session.
Harry needed a more productive outlet to get his frustrations out. So on the first Saturday back from break, he snuck out of the Great Hall after breakfast, keen to get some more combat training in. He headed straight for the seventh floor and paced in front of the blank stretch of wall three times, imagining the combat arena he wanted to relieve some stress in. The door materialized, and he walked forward to enter.
But something felt off. He had a sneaking suspicion that something was awry – that he was being watched. He paused, focusing on the magic around him, his mind reaching out in search of the hidden threat.
He spun around with lightning speed, firing a silent Stunner down the corridor. He didn't see it collide with anything, but he heard a distinctive thump as something large dropped to the ground. He crept forward on high alert, half-expecting a gang of Durmstrang students to jump out and assault him at any moment.
His foot collided with something invisible, and he paused. "Revelio," he muttered, pointing his wand at the ground. The Disillusionment Charm lifted, and he saw Fleur Delacour sprawled on the ground, unconscious.
"Oh, bloody hell," he groaned. "Ennervate."
Fleur blinked awake, looking around wildly to gather her bearings. She looked up and saw Harry's wand trained upon her, before sighing and covering her face in embarrassment.
"Merde, I am sorry, 'Arry," said Fleur. "I did not mean to frighten you."
"Why are you following me?" he demanded.
"I wished to speak with you after breakfast," she explained. "Then I saw you sneak out of ze Hall, and I was curious where you were going, so I followed you."
"While invisible?"
"Eet was stupid, I know," said Fleur, face flushed red. "You 'ave many mysteries I am curious about. Now, will you be a gentleman and 'elp me up?"
Harry sighed and extended his hand, lifting Fleur to her feet. "What did you want to speak with me about?" he asked.
Fleur wrung her hands together, looking nervous. "I am frightened, 'Arry," she muttered. "After what you said about ze Dark Lord...and what 'appened to Mr. Slughorn...are you quite certain we are safe in ze castle?"
"Reasonably certain," said Harry. "The plot involves Neville Longbottom, and it won't take place until the Third Task. Whoever is behind this will seek to get us out of the way, but not kill us necessarily."
"Okay, I see," Fleur sighed, sounding marginally more relieved. "Madame Maxime says zere is nothing to fear at Hogwarts, but I'm not so sure."
"The impostor wouldn't dare harm you or any other student before the Task," Harry reassured her. "It would be too large of a risk. As long as you stick with friends and don't wander off alone, you'll be fine."
"You do not seem to fear wandering off alone," Fleur remarked. Her eyes darted over to the door to the Room of Requirement, then back to Harry, her expression clearly indicating curiosity but a conviction not to pry.
"Well, come along, then," Harry chuckled. He led the way to the door, opening it to allow Fleur inside. She marveled at the enlarged space, filled with target dummies, raised platforms, ramps and cover areas.
"What is zis place?" she asked.
"The Room of Requirement," Harry explained. "It takes the form of anything you ask it to be."
"C'est magnifique," Fleur breathed, strolling through the makeshift arena in awe. "We do not 'ave anything like this at Beauxbatons."
"I come here sometimes to let off steam," said Harry. "It's sort of a sanctuary for me. I hope you won't tell anyone else it's here."
"Your secret is safe with me," Fleur grinned. "May I stay and watch?"
"Erm...I suppose," Harry said awkwardly. He briefly wondered if this was some ploy to gather intel on Madame Maxime's behalf, but figured it didn't matter. Nothing he did in here would be relevant for the maze anyway.
Harry moved to the center of the room, stretching his limbs in preparation. "You may want to stand behind something," he warned her. As he did so, a transparent barrier appeared in the corner, allowing Fleur to watch without fear of being hit by errant spells or shrapnel. She dutifully shuffled behind the barrier, leaning against the wall to watch.
Harry knelt beside a small cover spot and closed his eyes to get in combat mode. Fight for your life, he told himself. In three, two, one…
He took off running, firing spells over his shoulder as he did so. The target dummies sprang to life, moving around the battlefield in a rough imitation of enemy fighters. His first spell missed wide, but his next two were on target, one splitting open the nearest dummy's chest and the other causing it to explode outward, spraying shards of wood everywhere.
Harry rolled behind a wall, imagining curses flying over his head. He flicked his wand at a nearby pillar, transfiguring it to water and launching it across the room. At the last second he hardened it into a block of ice, shattering on impact with another dummy and causing it to smash against the opposite wall.
He kept up this relentless pace for another five minutes, dispatching enemies and moving from spot to spot to avoid being surrounded. The room continued to spawn more dummies every time he took one out of commission, ensuring there was always a constant stream of targets. Harry turned off his mind, focusing only on his own breathing, movements and spell casting, refusing to slow down, refusing to surrender.
Eventually he tripped, causing him to slam face-first into a low wall instead of vaulting over it as he intended. He saw stars, but staggered back to his feet, wildly throwing more spells at the incoming dummies. He was far off the mark, and soon he found himself on his knees, cursing himself for his clumsiness as five dummies encircled him in a tight formation.
"Mon dieu," Fleur gasped, walking out onto the battlefield to check on him. "That was impressive, 'Arry."
"Not impressive enough," he muttered, spitting blood on the ground dejectedly. "In a real battle I'd be dead."
"Your nose is broken," Fleur said worriedly, the target dummies moving out of her way as she approached, eyes wide.
"Eh, I've had worse," Harry grinned. Though in truth, his head was throbbing painfully, and the room was still spinning around him.
"I am 'orrible with Healing spells," Fleur muttered. "Shall I walk you to ze Hospital Wing?"
"That would be very kind of you," said Harry. He accepted her hand as he got to his feet, immediately feeling dizzy from the movement. He resisted the urge to vomit and headed for the exit, Fleur close behind.
"You say zat we are safe 'ere," Fleur remarked as their made their way through the castle. "And yet you fight as if danger is around ze corner."
"I told you, war is coming," Harry shrugged. "We're safe here in the castle, but out in the real world will be a different story."
Fleur considered this in silence for a few moments. "Are you a time-traveler?" she eventually asked.
It took all of Harry's self-control not to whip his head around and stare at her in shock. "What makes you think that?" he asked casually.
"You are far more capable than anyone in your year," said Fleur. "More than anyone in my year, for zat matter. You seem to always know what eez happening, and are always present when ze bad things happen."
"Interesting theory," Harry quipped. "Maybe I'm just a naturally-gifted student with rotten luck."
"Pah," Fleur chuckled. "So what is it then, voyageur? Your secrets are safe with me."
For a maddening moment, Harry considered telling her the truth. He truly believed Fleur could be trusted, and having a confidant in the castle would be a tremendous relief. But he remembered the fear in her voice when she approached him, and didn't want to burden her with all that he knew. Not yet, anyway...she was still just a student, after all.
"If I ever get flung into the past, I promise you'll be the first person I call," he quipped. "Sounds like a smashing good time if you ask me."
Fleur giggled at his joke, a light tittering sound that made the hair on his neck stand up. "Fine, keep your secrets, voyageur," she smiled. "But I want you to teach me 'ow to fight like that sometime."
"It won't be of much help in the maze, I promise you that," said Harry.
"Non, per'aps not," said Fleur. "But if war is coming, I wish to be prepared."
"I suppose I can do that, if I have the time," Harry shrugged. Fleur beamed at this, an infectious gesture which he returned with a smile of his own.
"Harry?!"
Katie's shriek of alarm pulled Harry from his thoughts, as she spotted him from across the corridor and peeled off from her group of friends to hurry over. "What the hell happened?" she demanded, cupping his damaged face in her hands.
"Fleur's got a mean left hook," Harry grinned bloodily. Fleur giggled again, but Katie did not look amused.
"We're going to Pomfrey right now," she said, taking his hand in hers and guiding him away.
"That's where we were already—" Harry tried to protest, but Katie would not be deterred, all but dragging him to the Hospital Wing.
Madam Pomfrey was not present when they arrived; instead, Dahlia was treating a first-year girl who seemed to have succumbed to a bout of unending hiccups. "Look what your brother did to himself!" an exasperated Katie announced, presenting Harry as if he were a misbehaving dog.
Dahlia looked up nonchalantly at Harry's bloody face. "Katie finally get tired of dealing with your crap?" she deadpanned.
"Domestic violence joke; nice one," Harry quipped, rolling his eyes. "Care to patch me up, darling sis?"
"Sit," Dahlia instructed, pointing to an empty bed. Harry obeyed, grateful for the chance to not have to balance as the world continued spinning rapidly around him. Katie sat beside him, gently fussing over his face.
"Did you need something, Fleur?" Katie asked sweetly. Harry turned; Fleur was standing in the doorway behind them.
"Ehm, no," said Fleur. "Just making sure zat 'Arry is alright."
"Thank you, Fleur, I'll be fine," Harry said, smiling at the blonde. "We'll talk later, okay?"
"Very well," Fleur said, nodding politely before taking her leave. Harry turned back to Katie, amused by the suspicious look in her eye.
"What did Little Miss Perfect want?" she asked.
"Miss Perfect?" Harry repeated, arching an eyebrow. "Is someone jealous?"
"I am not!" Katie denied, face flushing red. "I just...didn't expect to see you two together, that's all!"
"Riiight," Harry grinned. "Well, you missed the part where I Stunned her when she tried to follow me under a Disillusionment Charm. She watched me practice my combat spells until I ran into a wall, then offered to help me down here."
"You were practicing combat spells?" Katie asked. "Where?"
"Erm...a secret room," he admitted. "I'll show you another time."
Katie said nothing, but Harry sensed the wheels turning in her head at this revelation. It dawned on him that it was indeed a bad look for him to bring Fleur to his secret room before ever telling his own girlfriend about its existence. To compensate, he leaned in and planted a tender kiss on her cheek. It left a bloody streak behind, but she sighed and took his hand in hers, content to let it go for now.
Dahlia eventually came over to have a look at him. "So who do I have to thank for caving your face in?" she asked, grabbing his chin to tilt his head to and fro.
"Brick wall," Harry muttered. "Real stoic bloke. No sense of humor, that one."
"Uh huh," Dahlia hummed, pointing her wand at his face. "Episkey."
Harry winced as he felt his nose contorted itself back into place with a small crack. He barely had time to recover before Dahlia was shining a light into his eyes, directing his pupils side to side.
"You're concussed," she concluded, pocketing her wand. "Lay down, idiot."
Harry acquiesced, gingerly lying back onto the pillow. He reached out for Katie to join him; she hesitated, but eventually joined him on the bed, allowing him to wrap his arms around her and hold her close.
Dahlia walked back into the storage area and returned with a vial of murky liquid. "Drink," she ordered, handing him the vial. "Stay like that for half an hour, and if the dizziness goes away, you can go."
"You're the best," Harry grinned, taking the potion and swallowing it in a single gulp. It wasn't nearly as unpleasant as Skele-Gro, though it caused the spinning in his head to momentarily reverse direction, doubling his sense of vertigo.
"So how long have you had a 'secret room'?" Katie asked, nuzzled up against his chest.
"Erm...a while," Harry admitted. "It's kind of a place for me to get away from it all sometimes. I'm sorry for not telling you about it."
"I wish you felt more comfortable sharing these things with me," Katie sighed. "I can respect your privacy, I just...want to feel included sometimes."
"I know," said Harry. "I'm not a very trusting person by nature. I'm trying to fix that."
Katie looked up at him curiously. She briefly shifted positions to draw her wand, aiming it at his face.
"You're not going to hex me for this, are you?" Harry asked in half-jest.
"I should," Katie grinned, "but I'll take pity on you this once. Scourgify."
Harry felt the dried blood evaporate from his face, and Katie leaned in for a kiss. He pulled her in closer, grateful that she wasn't truly mad at him.
"Oi, break it up, lovebirds," Dahlia shouted from across the room. "Don't make me deduct House points!"
"As long as you take them from Katie, not me!" Harry shouted back. Dahlia shot him a rude hand gesture, which he gladly returned.
Katie did seem more muted than usual in the coming days, though Harry couldn't be sure if he was the root cause. Their schedules were getting more hectic, with Katie's O.W.L. exams and the final Quidditch match against Krum's squad on the horizon. All the same, Harry made a point to avoid Fleur for a while, lest Katie get the wrong impression again. Privately, however, he did enjoy the French witch's company and wished they could just be friends instead of rivals.
Meanwhile, Harry was growing more and more excited for his upcoming Quidditch match. Having his Firebolt back made him feel whole again. He'd been missing this: the unrestrained freedom of the skies, the raw speed and adrenaline that only the best of the best could give. He realized how spoiled he'd been in his last timeline, always having access to the top-of-the-line brooms despite his meager upbringing. As the expression went, he couldn't learn to appreciate something until he was deprived of it.
But even the best of the best wouldn't be enough to beat Krum. It leveled the playing field in one respect, but still left a wide gulf of sheer talent and experience that would leave Harry a massive underdog in the match. Though he felt good about the team in practices, he knew they faced a formidable task, and could only pray he wouldn't be totally humiliated in a 0-3 rout like Krum's last two opponents. (Three, really, if you counted the World Cup.)
Of course, his detractors were eager to rub in the skill disparity as the match rapidly approached. "Your lucky streak is over, Potter!" A Slytherin seventh-year sneered at him. "Krum's going to wipe the floor with you!"
"Is ze leetle boy going to cry?" a Beauxbatons girl taunted in the halls. "I 'ope you do not soil yourself!"
Part of Harry had assumed that he'd have more fans for the upcoming match, given that his team was the last remaining Hogwarts squad in the tournament. But he'd underestimated Krum's star appeal; it seemed that nearly the entire school was rooting for the Durmstrang squad. Even a few Gryffindors had gone rogue, sporting the Bulgarian colors and joining in on the trash talk in the lead up to the match.
Harry couldn't bring himself to care, however. The death of Slughorn and its aftermath had reminded him of what real stakes lay out there, and how meaningless this Quidditch match was by comparison. All he could muster was excitement at the chance to fly against Krum and measure himself against the best player in the world. He might get crushed – in fact, it was probable – but life experiences like that didn't come around every day.
Angelina Johnson was less relaxed in her own approach as match day loomed. "Your passes have to be more accurate than that, Alicia!" she barked at her fellow Chaser. "Two of Krum's teammates are in the pro league with him, and they'll capitalize on every sloppy throw like that!"
"If the twins could give me some cover, I might not make those mistakes as easily," Alicia grumbled, rubbing her shin painfully from where a Bludger had left a nasty purple bruise.
"They have to keep their focus on Krum," Angelina retorted. "He'll put us away within five minutes if we leave him to his own devices."
For once, Harry was unsure if he agreed with this strategy. From what he'd seen of Krum from the three matches he'd watched him play, he played about the same whether Bludgers were flying around him or not. And as good as the twins were, they were still a far cry from the professional Beaters Krum was used to avoiding. It would ultimately be up to Harry to keep the man away from the Snitch – he was the only one with a broom fast enough to keep up.
There was only one advantage Harry had over Krum: length. Unlike Cedric, who was built like a traditional athlete, Krum was on the smaller side, a couple inches shorter than Harry and just as thin. He was stronger than he appeared, sure, but he was definitely built for speed and agility rather than close-quarters combat. If Harry could stick close to him in the air, he might have a chance at boxing the man out and beating him to the Snitch with his longer wingspan. That was a tall order, of course, but it was a better game plan than nothing.
The jeers and catcalls from fans were one thing – the treatment from the Durmstrang contingent was quite another. Harry decided to take his own advice and stop traveling through the castle alone, lest Pavlovic or any other instigators decided to mess with him. The nasty looks and muttered insults in foreign languages were disconcerting, but hopefully harmless. Harry didn't know how much influence Krum had over his fellow students, but hopefully if he could get on the man's good side, things would settle down with time.
Match day arrived, and Harry could never recall a more lively atmosphere in the Great Hall. The entire student body of all three schools seemed to be planning to attend, with many sporting the crimson and black of Team Bulgaria in support of Krum. This was a bit confusing, given that the team of mostly Gryffindors would be sporting the red jerseys today, but there was no question who had the most support going into the match.
"Good; I like being the underdogs," Angelina said confidently as the team walked together down to the pitch. "All the better when we surprise them with how well we can play."
Harry quite agreed. If anything, the past four years at Hogwarts had instilled an inferiority complex in him that would serve him quite well today. He was used to being underestimated, being rooted against, and took perverse pleasure in wiping the smirks off of his detractors' faces. The others seemed quietly determined as well; the normally-jovial twins were brimming with intense energy, and the Chasers wore similar looks of consternation.
But the biggest surprise came from their Keeper, Volkov. He was always quiet and reserved, but today he seemed especially menacing, wearing a fearsome look of resolve. He met the glares of his countrymen with one of his own, daring them to speak out. Harry wondered what the House rivalry system was like in Durmstrang – he sensed a deep resentment between Volkov and Krum's squad that might embolden him to play harder than ever.
The stadium was rumbling so loud from students packing into the bleachers above that Angelina Johnson's locker room pep talk could barely be heard. Harry was paying her little mind, knowing that her intricate strategies for dealing with Krum would likely falter. It would be up to him to beat the man one-on-one, regardless of what the Beaters did. A daunting challenge, but one he felt ready for.
Soon, the time had come. The team flew out onto the pitch under a chorus of boos and a few cheers. The stands seemed to have been magically expanded, as countless hundreds of students and even some members of the public had come out to watch. Harry spotted his family among them: James, Lily, Dahlia, Sirius, Remus and Alessia, all waving and clapping for him. He greeted them with a few back-flips and barrel-rolls on his Firebolt to get ready.
The black-clad Durmstrang team flew out in formation soon after, drawing a deafening cheer from the crowd. They looked fiercely coordinated already, warming up in tight spirals around one another and looking supremely confident in their victory. If Harry didn't know any better, he would assume this to be a fully professional squad – Krum's influence surely rubbing off on the other students.
"Welcome to the final match of this year's inter-mural Quidditch league!" Lee Jordan announced over the speakers. "In the black uniforms we have Team Durmstrang, led by their star seeker, Viktor Krum!"
Krum pumped his fist for the crowd, looking fully in his element. As always, Harry was struck by how the normally mild-mannered and awkward young man seemed to transform into a superhero on a broomstick, striking quite the imposing figure.
"As with the World Cup, it will once again be up to a Ravenclaw to stop him!" Lee continued. "In the red jerseys are the surviving Hogwarts team, captained by Angelina Johnson and headlined by fellow Triwizard Champion, Seeker Harry Potter!"
Harry performed a few more warm-up flips, mostly to tune out the cacophony of insults and scattered cheers from below. He didn't care about the crowd today. The only other person who existed, as far as he was concerned, was Viktor Krum.
Madam Hooch marched out to midfield with the ball box as the two teams lined up to begin the match. Harry tried to meet Krum's eyeline and give him a friendly nod, but the opposing Seeker didn't even look at him. Not giving me the respect I'm due, eh? Harry thought hotly. I'll just have to prove myself to you, then.
"The Quaffle is released, and the game begins!" Lee Jordan announced excitedly. "It's Durmstrang with possession, pushing it up field...ooh, a nice hit on Alicia Spinnet there from the Beater…"
From the opening moments, it was clear that Krum's squad was employing a very different strategy. Their Beaters were almost exclusively focused on the Chasers, ignoring Harry completely. And who could blame them? With Krum as your Seeker, you could afford to take more risks than you might normally be able to.
"A nice pass there, and here's the shot...SAVED BY VOLKOV!" Lee exclaimed, as the crowd reacted to the fingertip dive from the Keeper. "And he is fired up, folks!"
Indeed, the normally-reserved man was barking at the opposing Chasers in a language Harry didn't understand. Looks like House rivalries are alive and well at Durmstrang as well, Harry thought, bemused.
Harry kept the majority of his attention on Krum, never letting the man stray too far away from him. But the Snitch was slow to materialize, and so too was the offense of the teams down below. The Hogwarts squad had difficulty pushing through the stout Durmstrang defense with the twins playing cautiously, and Volkov continued making spectacular saves to prevent anything slipping through.
Katie was the first to break the ice. She made a nice spin maneuver to evade her blocker and dodged a Bludger, streaking towards the right goalpost. Marko Pavlovic got in position to defend, but she switched hands at the last moment, flicking the ball through the left hoop as the crowd cheered.
"KATIE BELL SCORES!" Lee Jordan shouted. "The lengthy scoring drought is broken, and Hogwarts leads, 10-nil!"
Harry watched as Pavlovic chewed out his teammates for letting her through. Focus on your own job, Harry grumbled to himself. Don't blame others for your own mistakes.
Play resumed soon after, and the defensive stalemate continued. Neither team seemed too eager to overextend – the Hogwarts squad didn't want to push into a numbers disadvantage, and Durmstrang seemed content to keep the score close and let Krum handle things on his own. That meant all the more pressure on Harry to perform, as he did his best to tune out the action below and focus on finding the Snitch…
Suddenly Krum entered a sharp dive, rocketing towards the pitch at lightning speed. Harry dove after him, wind screaming past his ears as he fought to keep up. Krum was hurtling towards the grass at an alarming rate...if he wasn't careful, he would crash—
Then Krum pulled up sharply, barely avoiding a violent collision with the earth. Harry followed suit, forced into a tight roll to avoid both the ground and Krum himself. The crowd cheered in appreciation of the show of athleticism.
"A mighty Wronski Feint from Krum, his signature move!" Lee Jordan said excitedly. "It nearly dupes Potter, but not quite!"
"I'm not as thick as Aidan Lynch, Krum!" Harry jeered as he zoomed past Krum on his way back into the air. Still Krum didn't even acknowledge him, merely returning to his previous height and circling menacingly as before.
Meanwhile, Durmstrang managed to slip a goal past Volkov's defenses, leveling the score at ten apiece. I'll just have to catch two Snitches at this rate, Harry thought to himself. A tall task against Krum, but doable. He put on a burst of speed, determined to spot the tiny golden ball before the Bulgarian did…
He and Krum spotted it at precisely the same moment, darting around midfield. They both shot after it, neither able to gain a significant head start over the other. Harry's heart pounded from the incredible speed, never having flown quite so fast next to another player before. But he did not back down from the challenge, shoulder to shoulder with Krum, arms outstretched together side by side…
It happened in the blink of an eye. Krum's elbow jutted out, knocking Harry's arm askance. Harry stumbled slightly and righted himself, but his momentary lapse cost him as Krum's fingers wrapped around the tiny golden ball in milliseconds.
"KRUM'S GOT THE FIRST SNITCH!" Lee shouted as the crowd roared its approval. "Durmstrang leads, 60 to 10!"
Dammit, Harry cursed himself. His strategy had worked perfectly: his slight size advantage had given him a chance at the Snitch with his longer reach. But Krum's savvy and unexpected move had thrown him off just enough to give him the advantage. The difference between a professional and an amateur, Harry figured—
WHAM!
Harry was nearly knocked off his broom by a Bludger to the back, flattening him to his broom and nearly causing him to topple over the handle to the ground. There was a great roar of disapproval from the crowd, as even those rooting for Durmstrang protested the flagrant late hit.
"THAT'S A FOUL!" Lee Jordan shouted angrily. "Todorov hit that Bludger well past the whistle, and that'll be a penalty!"
Madam Hooch rushed over to chastise the offending Beater, whom Harry recognized as the second Durmstrang boy to attack him in the hallway weeks prior. But surprisingly, Hooch was beaten to it by Krum himself, who got in his Beater's face and began chewing him out in rapid Bulgarian. Todorov threw up his hands in mock innocence, but looked suitably dressed-down by his Seeker and nodded timidly.
Angelina called a timeout as the team descended to the pitch to check on Harry. "You alright, Potter?" she asked.
"I'll be fine," Harry grimaced. Pain radiated between his shoulder blades, but he didn't think anything was seriously damaged. Besides, adrenaline and righteous fury was pumping through him in equal measure, allowing him to ignore the pain and focus on the next Snitch.
"Fred, George, you have to be more accurate with your hits," Angelina told the twins. "Krum was able to ignore your Bludgers completely—"
"It won't matter how accurate they are," Harry sighed. "He can avoid them just the same. These two should focus on helping the Chasers."
"The Durmstrang Chasers are just as fast as Krum," Angelina pointed out. "Half of them have Firebolts as well. There's no point—"
"If I may," an unexpected voice spoke up, as Volkov stepped forward between them. "I suggest going after Pavlovic. 'E is their defensive anchor, and you vill have an easier time scoring if he cannot coordinate vith his team."
Angelina looked thoughtful at this suggestion. "You're sure of this?" she asked.
"I 'ave played against him for six years," Volkov shrugged.
Angelina turned to Harry. "And you think you can keep up with Krum without help?" she asked.
"I have to," Harry shrugged.
Angelina sighed; clearly she didn't like this plan much. "Alright, we'll focus on goal-scoring for now," she said. "But we're counting on you, Potter."
"What else is new?" Harry said with a wink. The team took to the air and reset for the second period of play. Katie was awarded a penalty shot for the late hit on Harry, which she jammed straight through the center hoop with a furious shout.
As play resumed, immediately Harry could see that Volkov's proposal was sound. Pavlovic was clearly uncomfortable sitting in his Keeper's box, unable to roam freely to help his Chasers without the twins pelting him from all angles. It allowed Angelina and Alicia to sneak in two quick goals to bring them within 20.
Harry forced his attention back to Krum, unwilling to let his attention lapse like that again. The Bulgarian continued to ignore him, hunting for the Snitch, pretending that Harry did not even exist. Harry was less passive this time, briefly riding alongside Krum and giving him a few shoulder checks to remind him that he wouldn't get off easily.
Suddenly, Krum shot off like a rocket across the pitch, barreling towards the Hogwarts goal posts. Harry gave chase, wary of another feint but not willing to let Krum get too far ahead in case the Snitch was indeed ahead. He kept his eyes peeled for any sign of the golden ball, scanning his peripheries for any sign of trickery—
Then Krum flipped over on his broom faster than Harry imagined possible, and was suddenly flying full-speed directly at him. Harry flinched, rolling out of the way as the crowd screamed in anticipation of a collision. "Whoa, a near-miss there from the Seekers!" Lee Jordan shouted.
But Harry had a feeling of dread as he quickly spun around to follow Krum's trail. He spotted the familiar tinkle of gold in the distance, a split second before Krum grabbed the second Snitch out of midair.
"Another fantastic feint from Krum!" Lee Jordan shouted as the crowd roared its approval. "This one has Potter looking the fool, and Durmstrang jumps far ahead to a 120-50 lead!"
Harry cursed himself for his foolish mistake. He'd used the exact same fake-out against Diggory in his last match, albeit not nearly as controlled and elegant as Krum made it look. And he indeed did look foolish as the Durmstrang squad high-fived their captain for his successful ploy.
Angelina tried to signal for another timeout, but Harry waved her off. No change in strategy would improve his odds against Krum. He would have to find a way to beat the man at his own game. He simply had to be better, as every tiny mistake would cost him against the pro. Get your head in the game, Potter, Harry told himself angrily as he tried to clear his head of self-loathing thoughts.
"Marry me, Krum!" one of the Beauxbatons girls screamed from the stands, causing giggles from the surrounding female students. Krum ignored the outburst, merely returning to midfield for the face-off. It gave Harry an idea, however...one that he wasn't sure would work, and that felt somewhat cruel, but might just give him the edge.
It was clear he couldn't beat Krum in tactics or skill. But he might be able to beat him psychologically.
He waited until play resumed and zoomed close to Krum for a flyby. "None of the Durmstrang girls want to date you, Krum?" he taunted as they passed one another. "Had to resort to asking out underage children from other schools?"
Krum's neck whipped around at lightning speed, staring at Harry with a bewildered expression. Harry schooled his features, resisting the immediate impulse to apologize. It was clear that he'd struck a nerve, as Krum shook off the insult and resumed his hunt of the Snitch.
Harry did not give him any space. He turned around and sped to catch up to Krum, sliding up alongside him. "Shame Hermione's going to dump you as soon as you leave," said Harry. "Must be a blow to your ego to get dumped by a fifteen-year-old."
Krum grumbled something under his breath in Bulgarian, but ignored Harry and sped off again. Harry did not give chase, allowing the man to stew in silence for a while. Hermione would kill me if she heard what I was saying up here, he thought to himself. It occurred to him that this might not be the best tactic to earn Krum's trust, but there was no doubt his methods were effective. His competitive drive won out over any sense of morality as he prepared to crank up the heat.
"Fleur and I were laughing at you two in the library the other day," Harry mocked the next time the Seekers crossed paths. "She already have you chained up in the library? Is she gonna have your Firebolt on a leash during your next pro match?"
"Shut your mouth," Krum growled, acknowledging Harry's taunts for the first time.
"Bet you hear that a lot from Hermione, don't you?" Harry winked. He then sped away before Krum could retort, leaving him once again to his simmering anger.
Meanwhile, in the main match far below, the tides were slowly turning in favor of the Hogwarts squad. The Gryffindor Chasers had figured out the Durmstrang defense, able to exploit tiny missteps and sneak through a couple more goals. The score was now 130 to 80 in favor of Durmstrang...one more goal from Harry's team, and he would have a chance at victory if he caught the final Snitch.
Harry continued to chirp at Krum every time they got close to one another. Krum managed to ignore Harry's taunts, but he was clearly angry at the constant needling. Occasionally Harry would say nothing as he passed by, just to hear the frustrated mutterings under the Bulgarian's breath, telling him he was indeed getting under his skin.
"ANOTHER GOAL FROM ANGELINA JOHNSON!" Lee Jordan shouted. "The Hogwarts squad pulls to within 40 points!"
The Durmstrang team was clearly getting frustrated by their defensive woes. Todorov once again fired a late Bludger at Harry's head, which he dodged with ease. The crowd roared in displeasure, especially after Madam Hooch didn't see the flagrant foul attempt. But Harry couldn't care less about such childish antics.
"Shame your Beaters can't aim," Harry fired at Krum when play resumed. "Seems to be a recurring problem for you pure-bloods."
Krum narrowed his eyes at this jab, but did not respond.
"Maybe that's why you're into Hermione," Harry continued. "You're hoping to muddy your blood a little so the next generation actually stands a chance—"
Krum huffed and threw a rough shoulder-check at Harry, who deftly rolled over the top of Krum to his other side.
"Hard pill to swallow, isn't it?" said Harry. "That you're going to lose the match and the Tournament to a filthy half-blood—"
Krum sharply entered another dive, rocketing towards the pitch once more. Harry gave chase, but immediately suspected a feint. Krum was making no adjustments to his dive, merely taking the shortest possible path towards the ground. There's no way he saw the Snitch, Harry thought. He's bluffing…
Then, Harry saw it. In the corner of his eye, a tinkle of gold, over by the Durmstrang goal posts. Harry did not overreact, pulling level with Krum and pretending to join him in the dive. Krum ignored him, laser-focused on the ground, on pulling off the feint—
Harry threw his shoulder into Krum, hard, knocking the Bulgarian off-course. Then Harry yanked up on his broom, a split-second before impact, shooting across the pitch towards glory.
Krum realized what was happening a moment too late. By the time he had adjusted course and taken off after Harry, it was all over. Harry snatched the third Snitch out of the air, and with it, the victory.
There was a shivering second of shocked silence, then the crowd exploded with cheers. "I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Lee Jordan screamed hoarsely into the microphone. "Harry Potter has beaten Viktor Krum to the Snitch! And the Hogwarts team wins, 140 to 130!"
Harry let loose months of pent-up frustration and anxiety with a primal yell of euphoria, as he took his victory lap around the pitch. Students from all Houses were cheering him on, and his teammates were openly crying with joy. Harry swooped down to land on the pitch, and his team piled atop him, yelling madly and squeezing him tight.
Harry got up and hurried over to Krum as soon as the other Seeker landed. "Viktor, I didn't mean a word of it, I swear," he said hurriedly, feeling terrible for what he'd said. "I am so sorry—"
"Da, I know," Krum said, surprising Harry with a small smile. "I haff heard much worse. Aidan Lynch threatened unspeakable acts against my mother...this vas nothing." And Krum extended his hand to Harry, which he eagerly shook.
"You were the better flyer today," Harry said earnestly. "Your team just let you down, like in the World Cup."
"I could haff been better," Krum shrugged. "You fly well, Potter. Let us talk next week."
"Yes, let's," Harry said, surprised at the positive outcome. The simple words from the soft-spoken Seeker felt like the greatest compliment anyone had ever given him.
The next moment, Harry was nearly bowled over by students as they flooded the pitch, a large group consisting of multiple Houses lifting him off his feet and onto their shoulders. Harry spotted his family in the crowd; Dahlia and Lily were hugging and crying, Sirius and Remus were jumping up and down like schoolboys, and James was shouting to anyone who would listen: "That's my son right there! My son beat Viktor Krum!"
It was an even better feeling than winning the Quidditch Cup the year before, Harry thought. Who cared if this was an unofficial match that counted for nothing? Who cared if the Third Task still loomed large and Lord Voldemort still wanted him dead? For one day at least, he got to be on top of the world.
This was a moment Harry would cherish for the rest of his life.
A/N: As you read this, I am heading out of town for summer vacation. I cannot promise a new chapter on time next week, but I'll do my best to update as soon as I can get the next one ready. And when I do return, it will be full steam ahead to the finale of Year Four! I've cooked up some nasty surprises and can't wait to unleash them upon you all. Mwahahaha!